


Family Bonds

by xXDesertRoseXx



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: But mostly angst, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Disclaimer for the whole thing: I don't own Harry Potter, Gen, also there's angst, and Severus and Harry have father-son relationship, and some humor, and the occasional bad poetry, and there's a twin brother there too, and you'll be subjected to my brand of crazy you poor unsuspecting readers, as in the Potters survive that Halloween, posting here 'cause some of my readers wanted to read the whole thing even without internet, this is epic length it covers the years before and through all 7 books i kid thee not, why must you keep asking if I do and hurt me so
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-09
Updated: 2014-07-09
Packaged: 2018-02-08 04:33:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 76
Words: 489,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1926747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXDesertRoseXx/pseuds/xXDesertRoseXx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When, after that fateful Halloween night, the wrong Potter twin is hailed the Boy Who Lived, how will Harry's life turn out? With a power he knows not, an ancient prophecy and one Severus Snape practically raising him, interesting at least is a given.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Prophecy

_"The son of the father who is not the father_

_Born under the moon of Claiming and of Thunder and of Hay_

_Born as the seventh month dies_

_Will bring the end to an era of darkness_

_And the beginning of the years of prosperity_

_For all that is magic_

_And the father of the son who is not the son_

_Father in heart and soul and everything but blood_

_Will protect and guide him_

_Shelter him and lead him_

_He will teach his son, the more worthy of a pair_

_The sworn protector of his brother_

_The neglected child_

_To overpower the darkness of his time_

_And united with the one who Sees and her sister who is not her sister_

_The keeper of magic that is old_

_The father and the son will find_

_Their path in life."_


	2. Once Upon A Halloween

  The Dark Lord was contemplating. There was a choice that had to be made and, for all intents and purposes, he had to choose wisely. His dilemma was simple; a prophecy had been made concerning him over two years ago. That, on its own merit, was not something he had considered completely unexpected. After all, he was intending to leave an everlasting mark in the history of the wizarding world and thus had expected that, somewhere along the way, a prophecy would be made.

  So no, it wasn’t the prophecy in itself that had him immersed in his thoughts. It was the content of said prophecy that had done so; the mere notion that he, Lord Voldemort, the greatest wizard of the century, would be defeated by a mere child. A child that was born as the third month died, a child of parents that had thrice defied him and lived to tell the tale. And, to his great discontent- and partially because of his long list of enemies- the candidates were three.

  Born first, early on the thirty first of July a year and tree months ago, was Neville Longbottom, the son of Alice and Frank Longbottom, two of the most feared aurors that had ever attacked the Death Eaters’ lines. The parents themselves had only recently defied him for the third and last time. Voldemort smirked at the memory; Bellatrix had been a little overzealous while extracting information from the couple and thus, the two found themselves locked up in the psychiatric ward of St. Mungo’s hospital, suffering from the aftereffects of a lasting torture under the Cruciatus. That dealt with one nuisance and also left their son unprotected, under the care of a grandmother. The Dark Lord knew for a fact that finding and killing the boy would be a matter of routine for him. But was the Longbottom heir the child he had been warned about?

  Born second was Adrian Orion Potter, son of Lilly and James Potter and older of a pair of twins. He was born a few minutes before midnight on the last day of July and, along with his younger brother, he was a better candidate to the prophecy, considering he was born closer to the end, ergo the death, of July. The third candidate was the youngest Potter heir, a boy that was born only seconds before the clock pointed midnight as his informant and close family _friend_ Peter Pettigrew had supplied. The twins were born much closer to the timeframe the prophecy had suggested and besides, they were halfbloods. And as much as he would like to forget it, the Dark Lord was a halfblood himself.

  It had to be one of the two. And it was in such thoughts that Lord Vodemort found himself standing outside the theoretically protected house of the Potter family at Godric’s Hollow. And what a fitting name that was for the place the Potters lived, the Dark Lord thought acidly. The parents themselves were gone from the house, courtesy of Pettigrew, who had opted to baby-sit the children while they were gone. The only other two that could pose a threat to his plans, Peter had assured him, were detained by the moon herself. Werewolves and full moons don’t mix after all and neither do werewolf friendly animagi.

  Voldemort walked steadily through the strong protective spells and rituals that covered the house as if they weren’t even there, their protection demolished under the weight of treason. He was welcomed at the front door by Pettigrew. He made a mental note to kill the cowering rat sometime in the immediate future. He detested traitors and the plump man would soon fulfill his purpose thus rendered less than worthless to him. Maybe he could let Bella have some fun. She detested rodents.

  “They are on the second floor my Lord.” The rat said bowing. Voldemort’s lips twisted in a sneer. “In the nursery.” Passing Pettigrew by without showing any indication of hearing him, the Dark Lord strode to the stairs, his black cape bellowing behind him. What a nuisance prophecies were! But this one had the possibility of becoming a force to be reckoned with in the future and thus had to be prevented now that there was still time. The door to the nursery was wide open, yet another courtesy of Wormtail. Voldemort walked in and stood facing the two cribs. There lay two babies, both sporting thick black hair. Not that it really mattered, since he would kill them both just to be sure, but Voldemort wondered which was which. That was easy to define, he thought. With a light movement of his wand, both children found themselves under a strong silencing spell. He had hated crying, absolutely _detested_ wailing babies while he was at the orphanage; he would have none of it now. With another stabbing movement of his wand the boys were both suspended mid air facing him and shaken out of their sleep.

  Two pairs of eyes opened at almost the same time. The first baby, the one on the left, had hazel eyes, just like his father and was crying loudly under the silencing charm. Vodemort, who had never bothered to ask anything more about the two boys but their names and the hour of their birth, guessed that one had to be Harry James, finding it natural for the child who resembled his father the most to bear his name. Because the second boy, slightly paler but with the same unruly black hair, had eyes of the brightest green, shining like gems, the very colour of the curse by which he was about to die. That had to be Adrian, Voldemort deduced.

  And he didn’t appear to be frightened by his presence, only alarmed as he stared at him with wide eyes. Strangely, if his eyes weren’t green they would look much like… but Voldemort abandoned that trail of thought, finding it useless. The boy was about to die anyway. Because now that he had laid eyes on the twins, there was no doubt in his mind that, if one of the two was to defeat him, that one would be the boy staring back at him defiantly in his young age; the Potter with the Avada Kedavra eyes.

  Voldemort briefly considered what a pity it was that the parents weren’t there to be dealt with too. But having to suffer the death of their children, for people like the Potters, would be worse than death.

  “Good-bye little Adrian.” Voldemort said sarcastically as he pointed his wand at the green eyed child. The green light that had claimed the lives of so many before headed this time towards the child. And there, just seconds before it touched his forehead, the killing curse reached what appeared to be a golden bubble that surrounded the baby, the impact creating vine like patters on the unexpected shield, before the curse rebounded. And with his crimson eyes wide in shock and terror, the man once known as Tom Marvolo Riddle, could only watch as his own magic turned against him. Upon impact, his body was reduced to fine dust, his soul being forced out but not departing the world of the living as it should.

  And as the soul of the Dark Lord fled from the now crumbling -due to an immense whiplash of raw magic- house and a traitor followed suit, trying to save himself from the damage he had caused, the shield that surrounded the young wizard expanded momentarily to shelter his brother as well as himself from the falling debris. As the roof came down the shield took hit after hit, the only sound in the room being the cries of the hazel eyed boy and the crumbling walls. The shield started to flicker and fail, small unprotected patches being created on it surface as the last parts of the roof came down on the two children. And it was through one of those cracks that a sharp piece of concrete fell -surrounded with the soft light of the shield as it scraped it passing trough- and caused a deep gush on the right hand of the hazel eyed Potter boy.

  By the time when the shield failed completely, the ceiling had given its place to the dark starry sky; the two boys were saved. Two frantic figures chose that exact moment to appear, seemingly out of nowhere, being informed of what had chorused inside their house from a dozen of alarm spells triggered by the collapse. With screams of “ _Adrian!_ ” and “ _Harry!_ ” they trotted over the remnants of what had been their house for the past year and a half, following the loud cries of their son.

  “Adrian!” Lily screamed as she ran to cradle her crying boy, observing with terror the bleeding on his hand. “Where’s Harry?” She asked scared as her eyes searched for her younger son. James ran over to Harry’s crib to find his second born child passed out, seemingly sleeping. His heart almost broke considering his son was dead, until he perceived Harry’s soft and steady breaths.

  “He’s here Lily! He’s alive!” He said holding his son to his chest where Lily could see him. With tears in her eyes but laughing in relief, the two young parents made their way out of their destroyed house, questions beginning to burn themselves into their minds. How could the boys be alive? What had happened to Peter? And where in the world was the Dark Lord? Unable to answer any of the questions themselves, they headed to the one person who they could trust in enlightening them. They apparated, each with a baby in their arms, to the gates of Hogwarts.

  It was over fifteen minutes and a message delivered by a silver doe -Lily’s patronus- later when a positively panicked professor McGonagall came towards the gate running. She was completely out of breath and had to inhale deeply for a few moments, uncharacteristically audibly, before she could utter the password to unlock the gate.

  “James, Lily!” She screamed and hugged both her once students as hard as she could while trying not to wake the now sleeping boys. “You’re alive! All of you! By Merlin’s beard, it’s a miracle!”

  “Slow down Minerva!” James ordered once he escaped from the head of Gryffindor house’s death-grip. “What are you talking about?” She stepped back and looked at them surprised, her eyes wide behind her glasses.

  “You don’t know?” She muttered before shaking her head distracted, finally regaining some of the calm countenance she was famous of possessing. “Please come with me.” She simply stated and entered the school’s grounds, closing the gate behind them as the Potter family followed her inside.

  “What is going on Minerva?” Lily asked as they walked in a fast pace. “We were in an Order meeting when the alarm charms we had placed over the house were activated. The house was in ruins when we got there!” Minerva’s only answer was to hasten to the castle.

  “Minerva!” James exclaimed as they ran to catch up, thankful that his boys were still asleep. “I will not take another step if you don’t give me at least a summary of what happened tonight!” And to prove his point he stopped, his wife immediately following his example. Seeing the determined look in both Potters’ eyes, the Transfiguration professor sighed and motioned them to keep walking.

  “I’ll give you the basics but we have to get to Albus immediately. He has been searching for all four of you for the last ten minutes; he should have guessed you would come here, but it’s only normal for him to be distressed in a night like this.” Minerva explained. “Your sons were attacked by the Dark Lord tonight.”

  “They were what?” Lilly asked feeling the blood draining from her face as the world started spinning around her, only walking still because of the adrenaline coursing through her body. She looked at her husband to find him looking paler than death and holding onto Harry tighter than was necessary. She easily mirrored the movement with Adrian as Minerva kept talking. “He went there to kill them personally.” She then stopped and turned around to stare at the two frightened parents. “There has been no news of him since. His Death Eaters are fleeing. The Dementors returned to Azkaban. Rumor has it…” She stopped to steady herself and looked intently at the two sleeping children. “Rumor has it that he’s dead.”

  “ _Dead?_ ” Both Potters’ asked in shock.

  “How?” James questioned without missing a beat.

  “I don’t have the faintest idea.” Minerva admitting as she began walking again. “That’s exactly why you have to go to Albus’s office.” Being too shocked to even question her anymore, they did as commanded and the rest of the walk was spent in silence. When they reached the Headmaster’s office, they found the old man pacing up and down impatiently, almost jumping in surprise when the door burst open.

  “Lily, James!” He exclaimed and ran to them leaning closely to examine the twins, his eyes standing at Adrian’s no longer bleeding wound and widening momentarily before he was shaken from his thoughts by an agitated Lily.

  “What happened Albus?” She simply asked him and he motioned for them to sit down. It was going to be a long explanation and besides, he felt his own legs giving up on him.

  “First of all, I believe we have to get our hands on Sirius Black before he disappears.” The Headmaster stated.

  “What does Sirius has to do with this?” James asked confused. “It’s a full moon tonight and he’s out with Remus.”

  “Voldemort managed to find and enter your house, disregarding the fidelius. That can only mean that the secret keeper, Sirius, has betrayed you.” The old wizard answered gravelly. The shock he received upon learning the true secret keeper was only surpassed by the two Potters’ horror upon realizing they had trusted their two sons to a traitor and worse yet, one they had thought to be a close friend.

  “I can’t believe Peter betrayed us.” James muttered almost incomprehensibly. Lily’s face was wet with tears.

  “I’m afraid it is true.” Came the grave response from Albus. “But he will be dealt with.” He added decisively. “What is of the greatest importance right now is tonight’s assault against your sons.”

  “So it’s true?” Lily asked with voice thick from crying. “The prophecy… it really happened didn’t it?”

  “Yes, I believe it did.”

  “So is the Dark Lord truly gone?” James asked in disbelief.

  “For now yes.” The Headmaster offered. “But not forever, I fear.”

  “He will return then?” James asked confused and even more scared than before. If he did, then what would that mean for his children?

  “I’m afraid that’s inevitable; Voldemort always had too much a great wish to live to stay dead.” Albus said closing his eyes and rubbing them tiredly, looking for a moment exactly as old as he was. “But that’s where Adrian comes in.”

  “Adrian?” Lily asked looking at the sleeping boy in her arms.

  “What do you mean by that? Is he the Chosen One then?” James asked never taking his eyes of his eldest son.

  “I believe so.” Albus said standing up.

  “But how can you be so sure?” James insisted, not wanting to even consider his boy would be facing such a difficult destiny.

  “I’m afraid it’s quite clear.” Albus stated and, with a soft flick of his wand, removed the blood from the wound on Adrian’s palm, healing the wound in the process. His charm was followed by two gasps of terror; there, on the sleeping boy’s palm, a red jagged scar, somehow resembling a lightening bolt, was clearly visible. “The scar is infused with magic. Very strong magic indeed, that feels nothing like Voldemort’s.”

  “So it is true then.” James said resigned as he slummed back into his seat.

  “It is. And young Adrian saved himself and his brother tonight and with him, the whole country.” The Headmaster offered.

  “What does that mean for Adrian, for his future?” Lily asked, hot tears trailing down her cheeks.

  “He will live a normal childhood, as normal as can be, he deserves that.” Albus said after a short pause. “But after he reaches a certain age… he will have to be trained; we will do everything possible to assure Adrian will survive this.” Both Potters nodded, not seeing any other alternative. The night at the Headmaster’s office was spent in talking and deep contemplation as the wizarding nation celebrated the downfall of a Dark Lord and the birth of a hero.

  And as they toasted to Adrian Potter, hailing him the Boy Who Lived, Harry was sleeping peacefully in a conjured crib, blissfully ignorant of how that very night would affect his life. Nobody bothered to check the youngest Potter for any scars that night. And in all truth, there weren’t any. But if anyone had known were to look and had done so in time, they would have noticed a strange black mark appearing on the young boy’s hipbone, before fading away. And unknown to the people discussing in the Headmaster’s office, the two sleeping children and the celebrating crowd, the wheels of Fate had began to turn, signaling the time had come for a much older prophecy to start unfolding.


	3. Of First Meetings

  It had been almost a year since that fateful Halloween night. It was now July and the Potter family was preparing to celebrate the twins’ birthday that very afternoon. A lot had happened since the downfall of the Dark Lord, even in such a little time. The last of his Death Eaters had been locked in Azkaban, now under the watch of the same Dementors that were aiding their fallen leader only a few months ago. Those of the dark army who had money enough, influence in the Ministry and the prudence to not shout their alliance with Voldemort from the rooftops, had escaped imprisonment, claiming to have fallen victims of the Imperius curse. The magical community of England was starting to get back on its feet.

  For the Potters, that meant they could finally come out of hiding. They had moved, after two and a half years of running, back to James’ family house, a manor situated not very far from Hogwarts. Lily and James had gotten back their jobs at the Ministry, James working again as an Auror along with Sirius and Lily at the Charms division. Even Remus Lupin, the werewolf of the extended Potter family, had been recently hired in the same Ministry, his extensive knowledge of magical law and his status as a godfather of one Adrian Potter, offering him a steady job in the newly created Werewolf division. The new Minister, Cornelius Fudge, had been cajoled by a certain Headmaster into not repeating the mistakes of the past and ostracising creatures such as the werewolves; Remus was the only logical choice for the job after that.

  It goes without saying that the fall of Voldemort and the end of the war had signified the beginning of a wave of changes for the wizarding world. And for a twenty one year old man, the end of the war signified something much greater that the end of his spying days. He just didn’t know it yet.

  Severus Snape was looking at his reflection on the bathroom mirror. It had been a strange day for him; his last living relative, his uncle, his mother’s brother, had died the day before and he had just returned home from the funeral. It wasn’t the death itself that had him disorientated. His uncle had been very sick as a child and growing up he simply never got better. According to the healers that were watching over him during the last years of his life, it was a miracle he had gone on living for so long.

  It wasn’t even the fact that Severus would miss him, even if having his last blood relative pass away was quite a hit. Marcus Prince had never cared for his nephew and had allowed him to keep on living with his father, even knowing what he had gone through as a boy. So, missing him was out of the question. It was just that his uncle’s death had brought upon him something he had never considered during the previous years of his life. His uncle had died childless and, due to wizarding law, it was he who was going to inherit. And that meant he would inherit _everything_.

  Severus had always lived under the concept that his mother had been disowned by her family for marrying a Muggle. And it was quite certain that nobody had ever contacted him while he was growing up. Thus, finding the family fortune in his hands was the last thing he had expected. He almost felt like laughing, _almost_ being the key word.

  It had been one of his main concerns while at Hogwarts every single time James Potter flaunted his fortune at Lily, that he could never offer her the same. It had stung but she had reassured him time and time again that it didn’t matter. And for her, it truly didn’t; it was by his own hand that he found their friendship damaged and he was quite aware of the fact. But he had apologised; _Merlin_ had he apologised! Not that she had listened as he tried to approach her time and time again. And then she had gone and started dating James Potter in their seventh year. And then she married him.

  Severus hadn’t really thought the situation through; by the time he had managed to gather his wits enough to consider what he should do from then on, he had found himself with the Dark Mark on his left hand and his life pledged to a megalomaniac madman. The fact that said madman was the most powerful dark wizard of the last centuries did nothing to help his case. So, Severus followed his orders and offered the part of the prophecy he had overheard unable to do anything else but obey.

  Then Lily had gotten pregnant and he had lost all his will to live. Nothing sounded more final than her being the mother of James Potter’s children. When he realized just what the prophecy he had presented to the Dark Lord would mean for Lily, he simply wanted to die a slow and painful death. Not seeing any profit coming from such a move, he offered his life to Albus Dumbledore instead and played spy for almost two years. The night Voldemort had fallen, while the rest of the wizarding world was celebrating, he locked himself in his house and cried the tears he had denied himself during the past years.

  Not wanting to run into Lily or her family, he had worked like a madman on his potions mastery, travelling the world, running away from what he feared the most. Not that it helped; in the end, all his hard work resulted into becoming the youngest potions master in four hundred years and returning home far too soon. A month after his return, he was approached by Dumbledore who offered him the position of Potions Master in Hogwarts after Slugghorn quit. Not caring enough to go looking for a job and considering he had to live somehow, he accepted. Starting next year he would be a professor in the school where he passed the happiest and worst moments of his life. A few days later, his uncle had died.

  And as he stared at the stranger in the mirror, he could see every last of his troubles etched on his face. He was thin, far too thin for his height. His cheeks were shallow and there were dark circles under his large black eyes. Minerva had once said his eyes looked just like black tunnels; empty and devoid of any feeling. The eyes of a dead man. Maybe she was right, the young man considered. The prominent nose and high cheekbones, the cleft on his chin, all clashed together in a way that should have made his face handsome. Instead he looked like a man who had spent years in Azkaban, like a man twice his age. His shoulders slumped even more and he had to fight the urge to break the mirror into tiny pieces with a hex. Or his fist, it didn’t really matter at that point.

  He would have run home and hidden there until the start of the school year if it wasn’t for his pride. Because somewhere deep down those unreadable eyes, _damn_ _it_ , there was still some part of himself left! And he should better recover that part fast; he didn’t know how and he didn’t know why, but Lily had convinced her husband to invite Severus to the twins’ birthday party. A whole afternoon spent in the presence of the Potters, Black, Lupin and a blissful Lily. And did he deny the invitation? Of course not because, apparently, that small part of himself that still inhabited his body was a masochist. He had accepted and now he would have to go.

  With a sigh he looked away from the mirror and the haunted eyes he had come to hate. He straightened his black clothes, the only colour he wore nowadays, and walked towards the fireplace slowly biding his time; he was already late anyway. Grabbing a handful of floo powder he braced himself mentally and threw it in the fireplace before stepping in the now green flames.

  “Potter Manor.” He stated with a dead voice and closed his eyes as the world spun around him. When he felt he was slowing down, he moved his right leg forward and landed gracefully in the main lobby of the Potters’ residence. The house was filled with people; acquaintances of the family, the Weasleys, Hogwarts’ staff and many others. And journalists of course, having come to cover the event. Severus felt like he was suffocating. He was just about to turn around, grab some more floo powder and make a run for his life, when a soft hand touched his shoulder.

  “I’m so glad you could make it Severus!” Lily’s excited voice came from somewhere behind him. He gulped and turned to face her with a strained smile. She was just as beautiful as she remembered her; her long, dark red hair was shining and her green eyes twinkled with life. Her smile turned into an expression of worry as she took his appearance in. He smirked at her concern and closed his eyes in exasperation; Lily hadn’t seen him since graduation four years ago. He was now towering over her at six feet two but he weighted less than he did back then. He opened his eyes again and felt his heart constricting painfully as her smile had returned full force.

  “It’s nice to see you too Lily.” He muttered and watched her eyes shine with happiness as she looked right behind him. The knife that had lodged itself in his gut started twisting with fervor. He looked over his shoulder and found James -that pompous prat- waving at them holding a baby in front of the cameras. Once the mini photo shoot was over, James trotted towards his wife and her childhood friend.

  “Adrian is sure getting heavy!” He said happily as he handed the giggling boy to Lily. With his black hair and hazel eyes, the toddler was an exact replica of his father. The knife twisted harder. “Hey there Snivellus!” James added with mock playfulness as his eyes landed on Severus.

  “James!” Lily admonished turning slightly pink with embarrassment.

  “It’s alright Lily.” Severus reassured her, swallowing the insult he was dying to throw back. “I wish both of your children happy birthday Potter.” There. At least nobody could say he hadn’t tried being civil. James looked slightly taken aback before mistaking the young potions master try at politeness for surrender. He smirked and brought Lily closer in a one armed hug.

  “Thanks Snape.” He said smugly. “Got everything I need right here.” He added for no apparent reason. The prat thinks this is a game! Severus thought furiously but denied James the pleasure of seeing him squirm. Lily, who didn’t understand the sub-context, as she was absorbed in cooing her son, turned to her husband with worry;

  “And where is Harry?” She asked looking around frantically.

  “Relax Lily!” James said with a smile, softly caressing his son’s scar. “I left him with Remus; you know how much he dislikes cameras.” And it was true that the boy couldn’t stand the abrupt flashes of light and the cries of _“Look here Adrian!”._

  “If you would allow me Lily,” Severus said, unable to stand the looks exchanged between the two Potters for a second longer, “I would like to walk around a bit and talk to some colleagues from Hogwarts. It’s rare to find them all together outside school.”

  “You’re working at Hogwarts?” James asked shocked.

  “You’re looking at the new potions master, Potter.” Severus offered with a smirk. “Now if you would excuse me.” He said swiftly and bowed his head to Lily before walking away. Well that went… _awful_ , the young professor thought and exited the main hall of the house, completely ignoring the members of Hogwarts’ teaching staff that waved at him. He just wanted to find a quiet part of the house to regain his strength.

  As he walked through the first floor, he caught a glimpse of Sirius Black who stared back at him menacingly and his werewolf friend; he quickly exited that room too, finding himself in the less crowded dining area. Still considering four people where far too many for his taste, he proceeded to a hallway and from there straight into the first door he found. It seemed to be some sort of a study; Severus entered the room and closed the door behind him. Finally, he thought, some peace and…

  “Hello.” Came a soft voice from the floor, next to his left leg. Startled, he looked down only to find Lily’s eyes staring back at him. That couldn’t be right. He shook his head and looked again. They really were Lily’s eyes, or rather very close to what her eyes looked like. The pair of eyes he found himself looking at was darker and more intense in colour, almost unnatural on a small, pale face. He found himself looking at the younger Potter twin.

  “Hello.” He found himself answering. So not identical twins then, he noted. The boy, satisfied with the response he had gotten, turned his attention to a book filled with colorful pictures he had lay open on the floor before him. The two-year old - _Harry_ , Severus reminded himself- had the same unruly mop of hair his brother and father sported. But his face had more of his mother in it than his brother’s. Besides the eyes, where James’s face was round, Harry’s was, well not exactly angular, but more oval to heart shaped. Severus’s eyes searched the boy’s face for more differences as if his life depended on it. The boy’s lips seemed fuller, more like his mother’s and his nose shorter than James’s. And why do I care? He asked himself as his attention shifted to the book the boy was looking at.

  It was a book meant for children his age so they would be able to recognize the basic spells; it consisted of nothing more than moving pictures but it helped familiarize the child with magic at a young age. Severus had just never heard of a child looking at one voluntarily. And since when did a Potter pick up a book that didn’t concern quidditch out of school? The boy -who had realized Severus was still looking at him- turned his eyes back from the book to the young man’s.

  “Hello?” He asked this time, his brows frowning adorably. Wait, _what_? Did I just think James Potter’s son _adorable_? Half shocked and half confused with himself, Severus sat opposite the boy and considered him with caution. Harry seemed to do the same.

  “Hello Harry, I’m Severus.” He stated. What am I doing? The boy nodded and pointed at himself.

  “’Arry.” He said softly and waited expectantly.

  “And what are you looking at Harry?” Severus asked in a voice he barely recognized as his. Since when do I speak softly? And since when do I talk to babies? Briefly entertaining the thought he was hit with one too many Cruciatus curses during the war, he focused back on the baby.

  “Magic!” The boy exclaimed with a smile and glittering eyes. Will you look at that? Severus thought and found himself… smiling? I must be losing it, he figured as the boy turned a page of his book.

  “Wed.” he started proudly, pointing at a picture of a stupefy curse. _Wed_? Severus considered puzzled. Then it hit him; _baby_ _talk_. He looked at the spell once again; wed… wed meant… Red! Satisfied with his deduction, he nodded positively.

  “This is called _Stupefy_.” He said to Harry. “Stupefy.” He repeated, pointing at the spell. The boy’s eyes widened.

  “ _’tupefy_?” Harry pronounced and pointed at the spell too. Severus chuckled and, ignoring his surprise that he could still produce such a sound, nodded at Harry.

  “Yes, well done Harry. Stupefy.” Severus took the liberty and turned a page on the book. The bright white beam of the Lumos spell was next.

  “This is called Lumos. It’s used to see in the dark.” He pointed at the picture again and repeated the name of the spell.

  “Lumos!” Harry said with glee, giggling slightly, causing Severus to smile along.

  “Correct. Now this one…” He said turning yet another page as Harry’s eyes sparkled with happiness. The young man had no idea how long he stayed in that room with Harry. But somewhere along the way, he had forgotten he was talking to James’s child and just kept on teaching the boy, feeling lighter than he had in years. It was only when a soft cough from the door broke their concentration that he realized they had almost finished the book. He turned around swiftly and met yet another set of sparkling eyes. Although, when Headmaster Dumbledore’s blue eyes were concerned, _twinkling_ would have been more appropriate a word.

  “I see I have found both our missing persons at once.” The Headmaster chuckled happily as he entered the study. Severus rose to greet him and Harry simply looked between the two of them with wide eyes.

  “Yes. I felt like walking around the house a little bit and I found young Harry here so…” The young professor trailed off as he felt a soft pull at his cape. He looked down and found Harry looking at him with his arms open in the universally acknowledged sign for babies to state “pick me up.” Severus’s eyes widened at the prospect and, ignoring the chuckling coming from the Headmaster, he focused on the longing in Harry’s eyes instead as he picked him up from the floor. The boy, who was still clutching the book in his hand, placed his head on Severus’s shoulder and closed his eyes, sighing contently. Severus almost chocked on his breath.

  “I believe you have made a new friend Severus.” The old wizard offered joyfully as he petted the boy’s unruly hair.

  “I…” Severus Snape found himself in a situation he rarely did; unable of coherent speech. Harry was very light for a boy his age and had that distinctive scent that only babies could attain. And suddenly, Severus felt a connection with the boy; he felt that Harry was somehow his responsibility now, that he was supposed to protect him and love him and help him grow up to be the man he was supposed to be. Suddenly, Severus Snape felt like a father.

  “Quite interesting. Babies are very good at judging characters you know.” The Headmaster continued as he walked out of the study, leaving Severus with no other option but to follow him. After passing the dining room that was now empty, Severus realized that, if he went forward, he would have to enter a room filled with people -where Lily was waiting next to her husband- holding her child in his arms. He froze at his tracks and Dumbledore followed suit, concerned at how distraught his youngest professor looked all of a sudden.

  “Here Albus, take Harry.” He said as he softly removed the slumbering baby from his shoulder, trying to ignore the pang of loss that had -unexpectedly- stricken him. Harry woke up and regarded him with wide eyes as he was passed to the Headmaster of Hogwarts. “I have to go. Give my regards to Lily.” He said and stepped backwards towards the main hall.

  “Sev?” A small voice sounded and the potions’ master looked startled at Harry who had apparently remembered his name.

  “Good bye Harry.” He said trying to ignore the pleading tone in which his name was uttered. “I will see you soon.” He added, not knowing if the boy could understand or if he would keep his promise, and left the room and the Potter manor in a whirlwind of black cloth and green flames.

  “Quite interesting young Harry.” Albus Dumbledore stated regarding the young boy who was still staring at the now empty corridor clutching his book tight. “Maybe you can help him, little one.” He said sifting Harry so he could hold him better in his arms. “Maybe you already have.” He added and walked towards the room where a great birthday cake was about to be brought in.      


	4. God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

  

Hogwarts had always been beautiful during winter. Well, Severus thought, Hogwarts had always been beautiful, disregarding the season. But there was just something about the fresh snow that made it all feel purer in a way. Cleaner. As if the sparkling blanket of white gave you a clean slate, an opportunity to start over. Or something like that, Severus berated himself for his sentimentalities. Just what he needed in a day like this.

  It was Christmas. He had never been truly partial to the holiday. Not that he had even been partial to any holiday; after his mother had died there was no notable celebration of anything at his home. Birthdays and holidays came and went with no apparent change in his and his father’s everyday life. He used to pretend it was okay with it, that he didn’t want to celebrate anyway, but deep down he missed it. He tried to recall the last time he had seen a Christmas tree in his house or any other type of holiday decoration; his memory failed him. He shrugged his gloomy thoughts of the past away and focused on his current predicament; he had opted to spend his holidays at Hogwarts of course. And Christmas dinner was fine, just as the whole winter break while the castle was almost vacant student-wise.

  Severus couldn’t believe the dunderheads he had been given for students were for real; it was a fight just to prevent his classroom from blowing up and the melted cauldrons! Merlin the melted cauldrons! How on earth had his students managed to melt fourteen cauldrons during mid-term alone? Given the cauldrons destroyed would have been thirteen but Sybill Trelawney and her crazy mumblings about the bad luck brought by said number -and why oh _why_ had he ever had the idea to mention just how many melted cauldrons he had at his class during lunch?- had almost driven him insane; he had destroyed the fourteenth cauldron by himself one day when she had visited the dungeons just to make the divination professor stop.

  And speaking of visits, back to his latest problem; the Potters had been invited to Hogwarts for Christmas day. Why? Only Dumbledore knew. And, when you thought about it, even that was doubtful considering half the time it was difficult to see if Dumbledore’s actions were planned at all or were merely inspirations of the moment. Not that the man couldn’t plan ahead. Severus was well aware that the Headmaster could plot faster than he devoured his beloved lemon drops; and for those not in the know that was very fast indeed.

  Maybe this whole thing was a plot after all; maybe Dumbledore was testing him to see if he would crack under pressure. Plausible. Why else would he have decided to call the Potters along with the fleabag and the werewolf over? And even if Lupin wasn’t all that bad, the mutt was impossible, just like James Potter. Then there was Lily. Severus didn’t really want to go there. Thinking of her with James on a daily basis made him sick. Thinking of her with James during holidays, thinking of all those stolen kisses under the mistletoe he had witnessed back in his seventh year, was reason enough to jump from the seventh floor window. Something he would do, if he didn’t know how to fly. Damn.

  And now he would have to add two sons in that blissful family picture. The famous and much celebrated Adrian, the boy who lived, and Harry. A memory of large, sad green eyes and his name called resurfaced at the memory of the boy. He had thought often of Harry. The boy had seemed to be at ease with him whereas seventh year students feared even his shadow -and how sad was _that_ considering he was only five or four years older than them? And he had actually made Severus feel something else than pain and hatred, something that hadn’t happened since before the war. He had made him feel part of a family too, something that hadn’t happened since, well, ever.

  Severus considered how futile those thoughts were; the boy was barely two when he had seen him last and it had been six months since then. Six months for Harry would be one fifth of his life so far; Severus didn’t expect Harry would even remember him. And it really didn’t matter his heart fell a little at the realization; he had survived worse.

  It was exactly the Potter visit that had him locked in his office. The family had arrived sometime during the morning and had just taken lunch. Severus, who didn’t eat much anyway, had decided to pass, and had spent his morning reading instead. Harry would like reading growing up, he thought randomly and let his head hit the desk behind which he was seated with a groan. Where had that one come from?

  He knew he had promised Dumbledore to attend at least one of the meals for the day, but he just couldn’t do it. And he shouldn’t be forced to! Why should Albus dictate what he should do after all? The war was over and he was not his spy any longer! With that in mind he rose from his chair with conviction; he was going to tell Dumbledore he would be dinning out and he was going to do it now!

  He exited his office, his cape bellowing at his wake as he ascended the stairs, making sure he took the long way round, not wanting to run into any of the castle’s visitors. He made it to the Headmaster’s office ten minutes later and made a quick rehearsal of what he wanted to say; he wasn’t going to be bossed around like one of the students! He was a teacher here and his own man and Albus should better remember it! Satisfied with what he had planned, he turned towards the gargoyle that marked the entrance to the office.

  “Jelly Slugs.” He said with a strong voice, flinching slightly at the preferences the Headmaster had in candy. Jelly Slugs? Terrible. He marched to the stairs and straight towards the office’s door, which he then proceeded to knock with decision.

  “Enter.” Came the voice of the old wizard and Severus, without further ado opened the door. With his gaze directed at Albus, he walked forward and greeted him.

  “Headmaster.” He offered curtly.

  “Severus my boy! We missed you at lunch.” The Headmaster said his eyes twinkling.

  “And you will miss me at diner too. Listen Albus you must understand…”

  “Sev!” A child’s voice interrupted his planned speech and startled the potions’ master beyond expectation.

  “As I said,” Dumbledore said, his mustache trembling at Severus’s surprised expression “ _we_ missed you at lunch.” The black clad wizard turned to the source of his voice slowly and found an excited Harry, sitting on the large purple sofa in the headmaster’s office, his eyes wide open, waiting to be picked up once again. Severus felt like smiling, and maybe he did too. “Come on Severus, don’t leave the poor child waiting!” Albus urged on and Severus obliged him. He stepped closer to Harry and picked him up.

  “Hello.” Harry said once again, his voice coming muffled from Severus’s shoulder.

  “Hello to you too Harry.” The potions master offered and this time smiled for real.

  “You arrived just in time Severus.” Albus declared standing up from his desk. “Minerva is showing James and Lily the area that is being set up for Adrian to practice at when he turns seven and I was about to head there too. I would summon a house elf to take care of little Harry here, but you two seem to like each other well enough.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “You wouldn’t mind watching over him for an hour or two now, would you?”

  “I… no, it’s alright.” Severus mumbled and the Headmaster nodded.

  “Lovely. I’ll come by to collect him in two hours from now at your office. Until then gentlemen!” He stated, leaving a surprised professor of potions and a happy two and a half year old boy behind him. As he descended the stairs to meet with the rest of the Potters, his eyes twinkled with mischief at how Severus had just saved him a trip to the dungeons. The plan had been to leave Harry to his care from the start, but he didn’t have to know that.

  “It’s just the two of us again Harry.” Severus said to the little child as they looked at each other. “Would you like me to show you around a bit?” Taking Harry’s laughter as a yes, he left the office, with the boy in his arms. “This was the Headmaster’s office.” He said as he climbed down the stairs carefully. “His name is Albus Dumbledore. He’s weird.” Harry laughed again. The two of them moved around the floors for a while. Harry was completely excited about the whole castle, or at least seemed to be, as he never stopped smiling, giggling and staring around him with awe.

  “Hello professor Snape.” One of the resident specters greeted them. “And hello to you too little one. Albus left the baby in your charge I see? Well move on then!” And he went through a wall. Severus just shook his head. Ghosts.

  “That was the Friar, the ghost of Hufflepuff. The school is filled with spectres.”

  “’pectres.” Harry agreed causing Severus to chuckle.

  “Yes, Harry. The castle is filled with specters and portraits; they’re everywhere.” And to prove his point, he walked to the grand staircase. “This is called the grand staircase Harry; it allows us access to every floor of the castle. And look.” He said and pointed to the walls. “All the walls are covered with paintings.” Harry nodded and they started descending to wards the dungeons.

  Severus couldn’t believe how easy it was to talk to the child. In the beginning he thought that he felt that way because two year olds don’t judge. But then Harry would giggle, or look at him with those big green eyes of his and he would realize that he felt comfortable, oddly enough, because he was talking to Harry. Not James Potter’s son; just Harry.

  “These Harry are the dungeons. I work here mostly. My classroom is here too; I’m a potions teacher.” Severus explained.

  “Potions?” Harry asked confused.

  “Why yes Harry; potions.” Severus said with a smile. “Come on, let me show you.” And he walked towards his office hastily. He approached his desk where he had left a just brewed Skele-grow potion for the infirmary. “This is a potion.” He said pointing the vial to the boy. “I made that for madam Pomfrey. She’s our medi-witch.” Harry stared at the vial for a while and then looked around the room in wonder. His gaze stood at a portrait Severus had hanging on his wall. It was the only one in the room and was, surprisingly, empty.

  “Powtrait.” Harry stated pointing at the dark blue canvas that was framed on the wall.

  “Exactly Harry.” Severus said as he looked at the painting himself. “Do you know why I picked that specific painting?” He asked as Harry looked at him with wide green eyes. “I was at the attic of my mother’s house. I inherited it a few moths ago you know.” He explained. “I was at the attic and looking at her various possessions that had been stored there by her relatives when my eye caught that painting. It was obvious that it’s an enchanted portrait. The thing is, nobody knows whose. I even asked Dumbledore, but he couldn’t call the person who was supposed to be depicted forward. It’s a mystery that painting. It’s an empty canvas where there was supposed to be a person.” He looked at Harry and smiled sadly. “It reminded me of myself. So I kept it.” Harry yawned.

  “Sleepy.” He stated, his eyes barely staying open. Severus chuckled.

  “So I see.” He sat down at his couch softly, and rearranged Harry in his arms so he would be more comfortable. “You know Harry, I have no idea why I just told you all that.” Harry’s eyes turned at him confused, as he looked at him under thick eyelashes. “It’s not like you can understand so _I_ really can’t understand why I bothered either.” He said with a chuckle. Harry’s head fell to the side on Severus’s shoulder suddenly, the boy having drifted asleep.

  “Night, Sev.” He whispered before fainting out completely, making the young professor smile.

  “Maybe that’s why I bothered.” He offered and watched the boy sleep for a while. “Do you know about the Houses of the school?” He asked a sleeping Harry softly. “I guess you don’t. There are four of them…” And he went on talking to the slumbering child as the minutes ticked away, lulling Harry deeper into sleep. And as he was absorbed by the two year old in his arms, he never noticed a pair of midnight blue eyes watching the two of them from a normally empty canvas. Neither did he notice the fond smile that adorned the face of the mystery person of the portrait that had finally made its appearance. By the time Albus Dumbledore knocked on the door of Severus’s office to collect Harry as promised causing Severus to lift his eyes from the boy, the person of the painting had once again disappeared. 

  And as the potions’ master was wondering when would be the next time he would see the little boy, not really daring to hope it would be any time in the near future, he had no way to hear that person answering his unasked question.

  “Soon Severus. Soon.”


	5. Where Dumbledore Intervenes

Severus was seething. It wasn’t that he was averse to socializing as a concept. But he preferred choosing the people with which he was socializing with. The Hogwarts staff would have, of course, been his first choice or some of the Ministry officials he had met last March in a potions conference. Maybe even some of the people he had met during his travels. As he had tried to remind Albus over and over again, he wasn’t a recluse or anything of the sort. He just appreciated his privacy. _Privacy_ ; now that was a word that seemed to escape the Headmaster’s otherwise vast vocabulary.

  Somehow, Dumbledore had managed to volunteer him for some sort of… he had no idea really what he was supposed to do. All he knew was that he was expected to report first thing in the morning of the third of August at the Potter manor. So much for being able to decide what he wanted to do for himself. And what exactly did Albus think? I need somebody to help the Potters; who can I torture more at the process? Why Severus of course! The potions master snorted in disgust as he grabbed some of the floo powder from the pot next to his fireplace. And he had hoped he would get to move on with his research that day. How naïve of him.

  He arrived at the Potter manor at nine thirty in the morning, not a minute later than he was supposed to. If anything else, he wouldn’t be frowned upon for his lack of punctuality. He hadn’t been invited to the birthday party of the twins that year and, even if it had stung a little bit, he figured it was for the best. Last year’s experience had been less than pleasant. He stopped at his trail of thought with a smile. Admittedly last year’s party had started out as awkward but it had turned out to be quite interesting in the end. Harry seemed to have that effect on him for sure. But facing Harry, Lily and her dimwitted husband playing the perfect family? Severus could think of better tortures found in hell. No escaping it now; he was at the Potter manor and ready to face the Potters.

  But where were the Potters? Severus moved closer to the door he remembered leading to the main living room and found it empty. Actually there where white sheets covering the furniture as if the family had moved or was going to be absent for some time. What was going on?

  “Severus my boy!” Albus Dumbledore exclaimed entering the living room from the hallway. “Right on time, as always.”

  “I seem to be the only one.” He stated pointing at the sheets. “Did I miss a memo or something? Where is everybody?”

  “On the record, the Potter family has gone to spend August in France.” The Headmaster said casually. “Off the record, they are somewhere in Istanbul, visiting a specialist on magical cores. Lily though it would be best to monitor Adrian’s progress growing up and Sirius mentioned that the best healer he knew that specified on that, somewhat elusive subject, was in Istanbul. Ergo, James, Lily, Sirius, Remus and, of course, young Adrian left early this morning for the east.” Severus considered what he had heard in shock.

  “And what about Harry?” It didn’t sound like Lily to leave her youngest son behind.

  “Harry is still here, in the study as a matter of fact.” Albus explained. “I assured his parents that he would be well taken care of in their absence.”

  “Impossible!” Severus exclaimed seeing red. “How could they just leave on of their boys behind…” Albus raised his hand to stop the younger man from his rant.

  “I understand what you’re trying to say Severus and under any other circumstances you would have been correct.” Dumbledore offered, his eyes losing some of that twinkling element they were notorious about. “But both Adrian and Harry are theoretically too young for such journeys; if Lily and James weren’t so anxious to find out what exactly happened the night Voldemort attacked their children and Adrian’s role in defeating him, the whole endeavor would have been postponed for sometime in the future. But alas, one can not do much to stop parents from worrying over their children.” Severus still didn’t like that reasoning but kept his silence, sensing that the Headmaster too wasn’t so fond of the idea himself.

  “What I don’t understand is this; what is that expert going to tell them anyways?” Severus wondered out loud. “Adrian is far too young for his magical core to have stabilized yet and, even if it had, finding ones core is a very private matter.” The potions’ master said considering the whole journey and its purpose. “Come to think of it, I’m not sure it is an attainable goal even for adults if they don’t spend the time needed to concentrate on searching for their core. What is this expert supposed to do anyway?”

  “He’s going to put young Adrian under some tests, stimulating his magic and waiting for bouts of accidental magic.” Albus explained. “He’s then going to analyze the data collected and draw any conclusions possible over Adrian’s abilities.”

  “This _is_ idiotic, you must know that yourself.” Severus offered after some contemplation. “I persist in my opinion that Adrian is too young; why should he go all through that trouble? I mean, has he even started showing outbursts of accidental magic yet?”

  “No, as a matter of fact he hasn’t and I believe that’s what prompted the trip.” Albus said sighing. “But that’s not the reason why I asked you come here.”

  “I figured as much.” Severus offered curtly.

  “As you have noticed yourself, young Harry has been left here, under my care.” Severus nodded, waiting to see if the conversation was sifting towards where he thought it was. It was surely too much to hope for, but still…

  “I figured as much too.”

  “Well, while I might not be in complete accordance with the journey to Istanbul, I should like to be there to monitor the results since it is happening anyway.” Albus continued. “I could leave Harry in the care of the manor’s house elves but I would rather he stayed with someone who is familiar to him. And I couldn’t help but notice that you…”

  “You want me to watch over Harry for you?” Severus asked incredulously. He had half guessed that would be the point of Albus’s speech, but hearing it coming from the Headmaster made it seem so much more surreal than he had originally believed.

  “Yes, that was the idea. But you seem distressed over it; if you’d rather I found someone else to watch over Harry for this month…” Albus trailed off.

  “That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Severus hissed through clenched teeth. The manipulative old coot! The younger man knew he was being played, but this time he was willing to let it pass. Albus wanted him to spend a month with Harry? Fine. He could think of fates much worse than that. The little voice in his head saying that he couldn’t think of something better was soon charged with defiance and was accordingly smothered. “Does James Potter know I will be the one watching over his son?” Nobody said he had to make it easy for Dumbledore, he thought watching the old wizard’s smile drop slightly.

  “He knows I’ll have somebody trustworthy watch over Harry.” Albus said and his smile returned. “ _Lily_ knows though.”

  “Oh.” Severus said and nodded. That had been unexpected and, truly, he couldn’t find anything to say that could possibly reduce the impact of such a statement. “You said I have to watch over Harry for a month?” The young professor asked, feeling his chest warming up at the thought.

  “So you’re willing to help?” Albus asked raising his eyebrow quizzically, his eyes twinkling madly behind the multifocal lenses of his glasses.

  “I believe that was implied, yes.” Severus offered drily. The old coot was enjoying this a bit too much.

  “Excellent my boy!” He said clapping his hands once. “I have prepared everything you will need.”

  “You acted on the concept that I would agree before you even asked?” Severus wondered aggravated as he followed the Headmaster to the study where he had first met Harry.

  “You know me, Severus!” Albus explained happily. “Ever the optimist!”

  “That you are.” The potions master agreed with a smirk refraining to phrase a more spontaneous retort. He was about to make a comment on how Albus was far too much of an optimist to maintain a firm grip on realty, when the Headmaster pushed the door that led to the study open. There, on the couch this time, sat a three year old Harry staring at yet another book. The colorful images this time where those of magical plants. Severus felt all of his anger melt away at the sight. Why was he complaining at that point again? It was a mater of principle, he guessed.

  “Harry my boy! You have a guest!” Albus exclaimed in a way of presenting Severus to the toddler. Harry was startled out of his concentration and turned to the door confused. A smile formed on his face.

  “Sev!” He said loudly, jumping from the couch and running towards the black clad man, hugging him -which meant throwing his arms around Severus’s legs and holding on for dear life- with such a force the young professor almost toppled over.

  “Hey there, Harry.” Severus mumbled and messed Harry’s already disheveled hair. He bent down to pick him up this time without waiting for the child to ask. “Nice to see you again little one.”

  “You haven’t forgotten each other I see.” Albus said happily as he noticed the interaction between the boy and the young man.

  “It seems we have not.” Severus affirmed, all previous doubts about taking care of Harry for a month having disappeared from his mind the moment he laid eyes on the boy. He silently wondered how he could miss somebody he had only met twice, as much as he had missed Harry.

  “Which is great, I assure you.” Dumbledore stated and turned to Harry.

  “Severus will take care of you while your parents are away.” He said to the boy, talking softer than usual. “Will you go with Severus, Harry?” He asked and the potions’ master heart constricted with fear. What if the boy said no, or started crying? To his surprise, Harry turned to him with those large eyes and asked;

  “Can I come with you?” To say that Severus was surprised by the hope with which the question was asked -let alone the double take he had to do just to assure himself that, yes, the three year old boy in his arms had spoken clearly and understood every word spoken- would be putting it mildly.

  “If you wish.” He stated softly. “Do you want to come stay with me Harry?” He asked the boy softly under the ever twinkling stare of Dumbledore. “Do you want to?” His question was answered with a vigorous nod from the boy.

  “That settles it then!” Albus exclaimed with joy. “I will accompany the two of you to your house Severus and then I will depart for a pressing business meeting I had to postpone to make this appointment.” Severus shot him a questioning look which caused him to elaborate;

  “The Minister has been dealing with some interdepartmental trouble and has asked of my opinion on the matter.” The Headmaster clarified and Severus smirked. The day that Fudge would not consult Albus on how to run the Ministry would signify the end of an era, he was sure of that.

  “You better go then before the Minister decides to do something radical.” Severus commented as Harry observed the whole conversation questioningly.

  “Radical?” Albus asked leading the group of three out of the study and towards the fireplace.

  “Like deciding for himself.” Severus explained smirking and Albus silently congratulated himself while chuckling. Nobody had ever managed to bring out that teasing aspect in Severus’s character before Harry came along. The young professor might have not noticed yet himself, but once in the child’s presence, he finally resembled the twenty two year old man he was.

  None of them could know at the time, but this was meant to be the first of the many times when this scene -with the exception of the Headmaster’s presence- was going to repeat itself in the coming years. And, of course, they could have absolutely no idea where Dumbledore’s intervention that day was going to lead. Everything was now into place; the Fates had set the pieces into motion and it was now up to a young man and an even younger boy to work their way towards their future.


	6. As The Years Go By

It had been exactly four years since the first time Albus Dumbledore trusted Severus with Harry Potter. Month after month, it seemed to become more of a necessity than a sporadic occurrence for the younger Potter twin to be left under the potions master protection as his parents were getting more and more focused with training Adrian. It wasn’t that Harry was going unloved by his family; there had been no such motive behind his parents’ actions. Still the facts remained.

  First, it had been the experts; the elder Potters along with a fretting Padfoot and a caring Moony travelled at the far corners of the world trying to find an explanation as to how Adrian had vanquished the Dark Lord at the tender age of one. The tests were inconclusive, just as Severus and Albus had predicted. It had been proved that although, yes, it was true, Adrian had great potential, the indication of something unique just wasn’t there. As the Headmaster repeated over and over during the years, it would be surprising if something out of the ordinary was found; Voldemort had been defeated under specific circumstances that demanded an extensive use of accidental magic to come forth. It had been a matter of survival and it was impossible to be repeated, a theory that was, in its base, quite true.

  Then started the bouts of accidental magic. At the age of six and a half, young Adrian stopped one of his toys from falling down the stairs, summoning it back to himself. That caused quite the commotion and it was swiftly decided that, according to plan, at the age of seven, Adrian would start his magical training. So it had happened and that August had found the majority of the Potter family training with Adrian somewhere in Wales and Harry staying with Severus at Spinner’s End as per usual.

  It had been quite an interesting confrontation when one James Potter had found out where his son had spent that first month while the rest of the family was in Istanbul. Dumbledore had to intervene before things got ugly; it was only after Sirius had come up with the idea that Harry could spend some times with his Aunt and Uncle, the Dursleys, when Lily had put her foot down and, in a row that Severus swore he would remember until his very last moment, James had finally been convinced. Once he was reassured that Severus’s house had more wards than necessary and after a private _talk_ with and exasperated Dumbledore, he had grudgingly agreed on Severus looking after Harry when needed.

  That was how Severus ended up looking over Harry -who was in turn looking over a brewing potion in the fireplace- smiling from his armchair while supposedly reading a copy of the Daily Prophet. Things had changed drastically for the young professor since Harry entered his life. While he was still the same at school, brooding and down right scary to some of his students and still got berated by Madam Pomfrey regarding how thin he was, he had finally started to heal. With every smile Harry bestowed on him, the weight on his heart lifted slowly, up to the point where, as long as he was in the boy’s presence, he found himself in a position he had forgone long ago; he found himself being happy.

  Harry had been a constant surprise for him and he was grateful for each moment they spent together; his smile widened at the thought that this time would now expand. He felt a pang of guilt over it too, knowing that Harry would miss his parents more, but he couldn’t help rejoicing considering how his everyday life would be starting that year. It had been agreed that Harry would stay with him during the summer while Adrian trained, but that wasn’t so different than the past four years.

  What _was_ different would be what was to follow; Harry would now be spending more of his days with the potions professor. Every Monday, Tuesday, Friday and during the weekends, Adrian would be undergoing training with his parents and various members of the Hogwarts’ staff, getting an early start on whatever he could in a broad field of magic. That would mean that Harry would spend his days in Severus’s quarters at Hogwarts during those three working days of the week and the weekends, returning to Potter manor every night to sleep. Severus felt that he couldn’t ask for more.

  “The potion seems ready Sev.” Harry stated, turning to look at the young man with a smile. He always called him Sev and that made him smile wider.

  “Is it now?” He asked and rose to approach the fire. Harry was right. “Excellent.” He simply stated and, with a swift movement of his wand, bottled the Pepper-Up potion and extinguished the fire. Harry’s eyes brightened as he observed the display of magic as always and then dimmed as he focused on Severus’s wand. The young man sighed understanding the cause of the boy’s disappointment. Adrian, in order to train properly, had received his wand at his seventh birthday. Even if it would be used only for training, Harry had felt -once again- excluded.

  Severus shut his eyes tight considering the injustice of it all; after all, Harry had shown his aptitude with magic sooner than his brother. As a matter of fact, it was on that first day four years ago when he had just brought the boy to his house that Severus first realized said aptitude. Harry had accidentally bumped on an end table, causing the vase sitting on top of it to tumble to the floor. Thing was, it never did _touch_ the floor; it instead disappeared and subsequently reappeared with a loud popping sound on its original place, eliciting a sigh of relief from the three year old wizard. Severus was exhilarated when, after a few quick questions uncovered this was the second time something like that had happened as it seemed Harry had managed to escape a fly down the stairs after tripping on a carpet a few months prior to the incident.

  And what had happened when Severus had tried to tell Harry’s family? “ _The_ _Row_ ” had happened, that’s what; after James almost having a coronary when he realized his son had spent a month with his nemesis, Severus found himself less inclined to share such information. It felt private, something that he could keep between Harry and himself. And anyways, the boy had since then done magic in front of his parents, a few days before his seventh birthday. Severus felt like finding James and hitting him with something heavy and ideally metallic at the memory.

  Harry had been congratulated of course but did it ever pass their minds that maybe he should be trained too now that Adrian was? No, of course it hadn’t. And it didn’t matter in the least that he was clever beyond his years and thirsty for knowledge; he just wasn’t Adrian. Severus had been there when Harry found out he wasn’t going to get a wand as his brother would; he saw that sparkle go out in the boy’s emerald eyes and that almost lead to hexing James and Sirius on the spot. Only the look that Harry sent him, a pleading look, a look that conveyed all his need to get out of his family home’s kitchen where that confrontation had taken place, stopped him as he drew his wand.

  “Are you all right Sev?” Harry asked concerned as he noticed the clenched eyes of the man that had become his guardian.

  “I’m fine Harry. Just remembered something.” He smiled at the boy who still looked at his drawn wand with large sad eyes. Severus smiled fondly at the sight of his eyes; he had managed to spare Harry the need of glasses, a fate that his brother would fall under. It was a potion he had come up with, researching for days and nights when he realized Harry’s eyesight was failing. James would never allow him to use such a potion that was made by himself -brilliant as it may be- and Lily would unfortunately never trust it if it wasn’t approved by the Ministry’s Potions Division; it was something that they had never managed to agree on, bending the rules a little bit when needed.

  Still, he would have abided her wishes if he wasn’t convinced that the potion should be consumed during the first moths after the symptoms became obvious; the Ministry needed at least six months before giving approval and that would have been too late. Besides, he was not interested in going public with the potion just yet. He was still working on some improvements on the basic formula so it would cure all types of eye failure and mot just myopia.

  “Can you show me how to make a Blood Replenishing potion now Sev?” Harry asked smiling softly. Severus chuckled; that had been the point of today’s exhibition. He was trying to make Harry forget of the fact that he wasn’t going to train along with his brother by training him a bit on his own. Besides, it wasn’t his fault that the boy absorbed any and every information thrown his way like a sponge! The room that Harry was using in Spinner’s End was filled with books on Herbology, Potions and Astronomy and everything else Severus had found that could give him the basics on magical theory in a way a seven year old would understand. He had after all taught the boy how to read himself two years ago, as the plan was both Potter boys would be home schooled before attending Hogwarts.

  “Of course I can.” He said twirling his wand. “I promised after all.”

  “You’re the best Sev!” Harry exclaimed and hugged him, making Severus smile again; if only his students could see him now!

  “Yeah, yeah kid. Whatever you say.” Harry giggled excitedly and run to put his dragonhide gloves on as Severus lit the fire again. “And while we’re on it, tell me Harry; why did I put out the first fire even though I knew you would use those puppy eyes of yours to blackmail me into brewing yet another potion?” Harry giggled again and turned said eyes full force on the young man who rolled his own eyes at the boy’s antics in turn.

  “Because of the Ashwinders. There had been ingredients of magical properties that had fallen in the flames that were, on their own account, lit with a wand.” Harry explained as Severus smiled proudly. “I guess you didn’t want the house to blow up?” Harry concluded approaching with the ingredients Severus had left on the table by the fireplace for him.

  “Exactly Harry.” Severus said taking the ingredients from Harry to begin explaining which was which. “Now if only those dunderheads I have for students could remember that, I wouldn’t have to deal with all those molten cauldrons after every lesson.” Harry giggled again. “Yet again, I trust they would find another way to destroy said cauldrons; their imagination sometimes surprises me!” This time he joined Harry chuckling softly himself. It was an hour later when the final ingredients had to be added in the potion when it happened;

  “So I stir seven times clockwise and one time to the opposite direction?” Harry asked concentrating on the bubbling potion.

  “Exactly; now if we did everything right -which of course we did- the potion will change colour from the green that it is now to a dark red. That’s how you’ll know it’s done.” And he smiled at the small gasp the boy made as, after a few stirrings, the potion became noticeably browner. “And now, if you keep going that way, soon…” His sentence was interrupted by a loud croaking sound; a Hogwarts’ owl had just entered from the window and flew over the two wizards, intent on delivering its letter in time. Severus felt that something would go wrong before it happened and still didn’t have time to react; the owl flew over the fireplace knocking a vase filled with mandrake root inside the boiling potion. Severus only managed to shout Harry’s name when the reaction began; a huge pillar of green flames rose from the cauldron, scorching everything it came in contact with and spreading as the mandrake root boiled. Severus’s only coherent thought was to protect Harry as the flames spread to the rest of the room. He had managed to grab his wand when a bright blue shield unfolded in front of them both.

  He turned his eyes to Harry and what he saw made him drop his wand in shock; the boy had extended his hands forward and was the sole reason why they weren’t being burned to a crisp by the flames. _He_ was the one conjuring the shield. The flames died down, leaving the wall over the fireplace black with smoke. Severus turned around to find the rest of the room completely unharmed. Harry’s hands fell at his sides and he breathed in deeply. A smile of pure relief etched in his face, only to disperse into thin air as he turned to Severus. The young man was left speechless.

  “Sev, are you all right?” Harry repeated for the second time that evening.

  “I… you… Yes, I’m fine Harry.” Severus muttered staring at the boy and plopping on the floor unceremoniously.

  “You don’t look fine, Sev.” The boy stated with the disarming simplicity only a child could master.

  “I’m just surprised.” He explained.

  “Why?”

  “What you did just now… Have you ever done anything like that before?” Severus asked as Harry started at him perplexed.

  “Accidental magic? Lots of times.” The boy stated, not understanding what Severus meant.

  “No, Harry what I meant was, have you ever done anything like that shield before?” The black eyed elaborated.

  “I don’t think so?” He looked at Severus worried. “Why? Is that bad?”

  “ _Bad_? No.” The potions’ master stated. “It’s advanced; I have never heard of any form of accidental magic displayed in such a way.”

  “Oh.” Harry offered, not really knowing what to say.

  “Harry, do you mind if we took a small trip to Hogwarts?” Severus asked after some consideration. “I think the Headmaster should hear about this.”

  “Okay.” The small boy readily agreed as Severus pushed his body off the floor.

  “And what about the wall?” Harry asked, his eyes widening, as he took in the almost burned down fireplace.

  “You’re all that matters now Harry. The bloody wall can fall down for all I care.” Severus offered, fixing the fireplace with his wand just enough to make it usable and summoning some floo powder from his room, given the one next to the fireplace had been used up when the cauldron exploded. He extended his hand to Harry who was looking at him with a soft smile on his face.

  “Thanks Sev.” He said as the older wizard threw some powder in the flames.

  “For what?” He asked distracted as Harry hugged him once again.

  “For caring.” Severus was left speechless yet again, staring at the boy.

  “Of course I care kid. Hey look at me.” He said softly as he kneeled to face Harry who was looking at the floor, avoiding his eyes. “I will always care. I love you kid.” Harry’s eyes snapped back at Severus’s filled first with shock and them brimming with tears. It was the first time Severus had said that to the boy, even if he had admitted it to himself years ago.

  “I love you too Sev!” Harry stated holding onto the young professor tighter, making Severus shed a tear of his own. “I wish you were my Dad.” The boy whispered startling the man out of his wits.

  “Harry I… you already have a Dad.” He stated with a heavy heart, knowing deep down that he wished for the exact same thing. Not because Harry was Lily’s son, no; just because Harry was Harry.

  “I know.”

  “And as much as it hurts to give it to him, he loves you; all your family does.” Severus added with a sad smile.

  “I love them too. But sometimes I just don’t like them very much.” Harry admitted, tears flowing down his face, breaking Severus’s heart a little. He just didn’t have anything to answer this time. “Don’t you want to be my Dad?” Harry asked disarmingly.

  “More than anything kid.”

  “Then why can’t you?” Harry asked timidly, his eyes boring into Severus’s. Why couldn’t he really, he wondered. He couldn’t be his biological father of course, but a father figure? Wasn’t he already one?

  “Harry you already have…”

  “I know James is my father!” Harry shouted shutting his eyes as tight as he could, new tears cascading down his cheeks as he shook with furry. “I know okay? But he’s not my Dad!” He snapped his eyes open and Severus was left staring at him, not knowing what to say. “He’s Adrian’s Dad; he plays with him, he takes him to Quidditch games, he teaches him stuff. He doesn’t do that for me. You do. He is my father but you’re my Dad!” Harry exclaimed. “Why _can’t_ you be my Dad?” He whispered, his voice broken. This time it was Severus’s time to hug him. He felt something hot trailing down his face and only Harry’s trembling hands wrapped themselves around his torso did he realize it has tears.

  From all the things he could have ever expected from a seven year old that hadn’t even made the list; he still didn’t dare to believe it. Could the boy really feel that way? Obviously yes, he could. And in that case, what could he say? There was only one option that remotely made sense.

  “Okay Harry.” He pulled back and looked the boy in the eyes, his voice thick.

  “Okay?”

  “If you want it too, there’s nothing else in the world that I want as much as being your Dad.” And as the held each other once again, happier than they had ever been, eyes shut, crying tears of joy, they had no way of noticing a soft white aura surrounding them both. As it often happens with those things, the light was gone the moment their eyes opened.

  “Are we still going to Hogwarts?” Harry asked after a few moments making Severus laugh, a full-blown laughter that had been unused since before the war.

  “Yes we are.” Severus answered wiping the boy’s cheeks from any traces of tears. Hand in hand they walked into the flames and on to Hogwarts they went, landing carefully on the floor of Severus’s office.

  “It was about time you two appeared.” A voice said surprising both of them and causing Severus to draw his wand and stand protectively in front of Harry and the source of said voice. His eyes widened, a reaction mirrored by Harry who was peeking behind Severus’s protective form. “I almost believed I miscalculated.”

  “Who are you?” Severus asked threateningly as he stared at the smiling man with the dark blue eyes in the portrait; the portrait that was supposed to be empty. He was old, probably as old as Dumbledore, with long, luxurious robes in the same colour as his eyes. His white hair and beard could give Albus a run for his money and his whole stance spoke of power.

  “Now that’s the question!” The man exclaimed chuckling. “I was bornMyrddin Emrys, but most people simply know me as Merlin.” And observing the wide eyed wizards in front of him, the man in the portrait smiled wider and, with a polite bow added; “Merlin Ambrosius, at your service.”


	7. Ignorance Is Bliss

Harry and Severus stood frozen as the man in the portrait claimed to be the most powerful wizard of all times. Severus was the first one to react at the statement.

  “No, you’re not.” He stated simply, not knowing what else to say.

  “Yes, I am but I knew you were going to say that Severus.” The man that was or wasn’t Merlin retorted merrily.

  “He _does_ have quite an impressive beard.” Harry stated, causing the man in the portrait to laugh and Severus to turn and stare at the boy confused.

  “How is that in any way indicative?” The potions master asked.

  “Merlin was said to have a beard like that.” Harry answered while Severus simply cocked an eyebrow in disbelief. “At least I tried!” The boy exclaimed, never taking his eyes of the old wizard.

  “Thank you Harry!” The man who claimed to be Merlin offered, his hand patting his beard.

  “First of all, how do you know our names?” Severus asked lowering his wand, realizing that a portrait couldn’t do any magic no matter who was painted on it. Not that he believed this was Merlin. “And secondly, Merlin never had any portraits made in his image.”

  “That would be true; I have not.” The old wizard acquiesced.

  “Excuse me sir but aren’t you a portrait?” Harry asked confused. Severus nodded in accordance.

  “Yes and no; this is not exactly a portrait. I would guess it is a window if anything else.”

  “A window to where?” Severus asked getting more and more agitated by the second.

  “Tell me Severus; what do you know of Avalon?” The potions master regarded the strange man startled while Harry observed the conversation captivated.

  “Avalon is supposed to be a magical island, created by magic. It is also the legendary abode of Morgana Le Fay.” Severus answered in a monotone voice. “How is this relevant?”

  “Because that painting is indeed a window to Avalon. Or rather to me, since I reside in Avalon presently.” The man said shrugging.

  “Avalon does not exist. And you are a painting; I don’t know whose painting, but definitely not Merlin’s.” The young professor stated emphatically. This was going nowhere and he had to make sure Harry wasn’t harmed by whatever it was his magic had done; there simply was no time for deranged portraits, no matter whose they claimed to be.

  “If I’m just a painting then how do I know young Harry over here just showcased an incredible amount of power in just a single accidental magic incident?” The man said more serious this time, making both wizards gasp. “And if I am just a painting how can I do _this_?” And by this, the man meant drawing his wand and casting a wordless spell towards Harry and Severus; a dark red mist flew from his wand and swarmed over the two wizards who, in a matter of seconds, collapsed in a heap on the floor.

  “Where are we?” Harry asked looking around him, feeling dizzy. Everything had been dark when he had first opened his eyes but now he could make out forms of what seemed to be… furniture? It _was_ furniture! He and Severus -who was getting up from the floor for the second time that day- found themselves in what appeared to a study or a small personal library. The room was two floors high, filled with bookcases. There was a fireplace and a desk in front of them and the way in which the room was decorated -with dark wooden floors and furniture and fabrics in dark hues of blue, green and red- made Severus’s mind wander to the library at Hogwarts. Actually a mixture of the library and the Headmaster’s office.

  “I have no idea.” He answered to the boy, once again covering him, using his body as a live shield while they moved towards the fireplace. “Just stay close.”

  “Okay.” Harry mumbled as he latched onto Severus’s cloak.

  “No need to fear.” A voice came from behind them, causing Severus to turn rapidly should the need arose to defend Harry. “Really, there is no need.” The man from the portrait said. Problem was, he was no longer in a portrait; instead, he was walking confidently towards the two wizards, stopping only at a few paces from Severus’s raised wand.

  “What have you done to us?” He asked furious. “What is this place?”

  “On my way to proving I’m indeed not a portrait but Merlin -which _is_ getting annoying- I moved straight to the second part of our meeting, figuring I could explain you what’s happening while we’re here. As to where we are…” He looked around with a smile. “Why it appears to be a library of some sort. Truthfully, I have no idea.”

  “How can that be?” Severus asked as Harry’s grip tightened on his cloak. “You brought us here!”

  “I did, but I did not choose the setting.” Merlin, as Severus had decided to call him until proven wrong, admitted. “I believe we’re in your mind at this moment Severus, that’s what the spell does. I needed a place where we could speak in peace and, since I casted the spell, the mind chosen couldn’t be mine.”

  “Are you telling me that this is my mind?” Severus asked bewildered, lowering his wand. This day was just getting stranger by the second.

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying.” Merlin confirmed. “I love how you’ve decorated by the way.”

  “Thank y… Wait a minute!” Severus protested clasping his head. This conversation was giving him a headache. “Can you prove it?”

  “That I’m Merlin?” The old wizard asked seemingly exasperated.

  “Let’s assume that you are Merlin.” Severus offered resigned. “Can you prove that this is my mind?”

  “No, but you can!” Merlin said with a smile.

  “What? _How_?”

  “This is _your_ mind; just change something by will. Concentrate and you’ll see. Go on!” Merlin prompted. Severus sighed and turned to look at Harry who had turned pale; figuring he had nothing to lose at the moment he observed the room around him. I seemed a little dark so he turned towards the wall further away from them and closed his eyes imagining a large window. What alerted him was a soft gasp from Harry. He opened his eyes only to find the wall across them had disappeared and in its place stood a two storey high vitro.

  “Merlin’s be…” Severus started before turning at Merlin himself who regarded him critically. “Never mind that.” He muttered rubbing his temples. “This really is my mind, isn’t it?”

  “It is.” The old man agreed smiling.

  “And you really are Merlin.” Severus stated this time in shock. He was talking with Merlin, the greatest wizard of all time! Inside his head. And Harry was there too. Suddenly the prospect didn’t look that great. “I need to sit down.” He said and immediately an armchair, similar to the one he had back home appeared; he landed on it unceremoniously. He conjured two more and motioned the two remaining members of the unusual group to sit down.

  “Yes, I am Merlin, as I’ve been trying to say for quite some time now.” Merlin agreed with a smile. “And you are Severus Snape and this young man over here is Harry Potter; the Boy Who Lived.” At that a pair of black and a pair of green eyes snapped towards him in fear. The what?

  “But sir I’m not…” Harry began, stopping to clear his throat as his voice came out more like a croak. “I’m not the boy who lived; my brother Adrian is.”

  “I beg to differ Harry.” Merlin said sighing. “And this one I can prove.”

  “How?” Severus asked, feeling the blood drain from his face. _Not_ _Harry_.

  “That’s one of the reasons you have been brought here.” Merlin explained. “At this very moment, this very conversation is taking place in our subconscious. Physically you two are still at Hogwarts and I am in Avalon; and I can assure you, all three of us are passed out cold on the floor.”

  “How does that prove anything?” Severus asked, already having an idea of what Merlin was indicating.

  “I see you’re beginning to comprehend what I mean Severus.” The old wizard said. “Since we’re in this state, our consciousness has subsided, leaving space for our subconscious to take over; unbelievable things can be achieved in such a state of mind. You can create a whole room out of nothing.” He stated pointing to the room all around them. “You can defy the laws of nature. And you can make it so that you can recall memories long forgotten, even if you were nothing but a one year-old baby at the time the actual event took place.” He concluded in a grave voice.

  “Is that true?” Harry asked quietly as Merlin nodded. “Can I… could I see?”

  “Harry no!” Severus protested. “Even if what you say it’s true,” He started turning towards Merlin “are you going to subject a seven year-old into watching his attempted murder?”

  “If what I’m saying is true -and I’m afraid it is- do you think that it will matter in the future if he has seen it or not?” Merlin asked. “It’s your choice Harry; just remember that it’s your past and, no matter how much it hurt you at the time, it can do nothing to harm you now. It’s just a memory.” Harry, who had turned white as a ghost, nodded.

  “I want to see it.”

  “Harry…” Severus began softly to have Harry interrupt him.  
  “Sev, I’ve been hearing about that night all of my life; I want to see what happened. I must.” He pleaded with him, fearful but resolute.

  “If you feel that way.” Severus resigned after a thoughtful pause. Who was he to forbid Harry from finding out what had really happened the night that changed his life forever? “How are we doing this?” He asked Merlin with a sigh.

  “It’s your mind Severus. Just cast the spell you normally would cast to retract a memory and let things take their course.” Severus nodded once and turned towards Harry.

  “Just think of the memory you want to remember Harry. If at any time you want to stop seeing it, tell me and I will end the spell at once. Understand?” He asked holding Harry’s shoulder as they both stood from their seats. Merlin followed suit and Severus brought his wand to Harry’s temple. Trying to be as gentle as possible, he said the incantation and softly extracted the silvery essence that was Harry’s memory. Instead of seeking a vessel, it spread like liquefied silk, creating a large screen of twirling lights before it stabilized to the image of a nursery. Two cribs were clearly visible in the room as the three walked in through the open door.

  They didn’t have to wait for long before the black clad figure of Lord Voldemort entered the room. Harry and Severus cringed -Harry never having seen the face of the Dark Lord moved closer to Severus holding onto him as strongly as he could- while Merlin watched with disdain. They watched as Voldemort pointed his wand at the two past Potter boys and Harry and Severus gasped in shock as he decided to firstly attack Harry, mistaking him for the firstborn. By the time the golden shield covered the room and Voldemort fled, Harry was sobbing and Severus wasn’t faring any better. They stood long enough to see the debris fall through the shield onto Adrian’s hand creating the famous jagged scar on his palm before the memory went blank and the found themselves back at the library. This time it was raining behind the stained glass.

  “And now you know.” Merlin stated as Severus did his best to comfort a distressed Harry.

  “But all those years… How come nobody realized? How didn’t Albus?” The young man asked stroking Harry’s hair.

  “The scar was there, infused with strong magic and Voldemort had vanished. Harry on the other hand, didn’t bear any signs of being the one who had defeated the Dark Lord and was unconscious when his parents arrived home.” Merlin explained. “Nobody saw anything beyond what they expected to see.”

  “But the prophecy…” Severus said swallowing hard. The mere thought that he had almost caused Harry’s death was driving him insane. He still couldn’t believe the scene he had just witnessed.

  “The thing about prophecies,” The old wizard said “is that they can be very tricky to decipher.”

  “What prophecy?” Harry suddenly asked, drying his tears without letting go of Severus’s now wet shirt.

  “Before you were born,” Severus said, stopping Merlin from talking, feeling he had to do this himself “there was a prophecy made by one Sybila Trelawney, the now divination professor in Hogwarts. In the prophecy… it was stated that the one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord would be born when the seventh month died.” Severus closed his eyes in pain. “I heard that part of the prophecy and it was me…” he swallowed hard trying to find his courage; he knew Harry would hate him after that but he had to tell him. “It was me that gave Voldemort that information Harry. It’s my fault that you almost died!”

  Harry stood absolutely still and regarded Severus carefully; he kept his eyes shut which did nothing to prevent a few tears from escaping them. Severus had told him of his part in the war, not hiding a thing from how he got involved or why, a few months ago, when Harry had seen the faded Dark Mark on his hand. Harry had hugged him and told him that it didn’t matter and that he had turned out fine in the end, making the man chuckle despite himself. But he had never mentioned the prophecy; he had believed it to refer to his brother after all. But now, after having seen what almost happened, the burden in his heart was far too heavy; Harry had almost died and it was his fault and nothing could ever…

  “Haven’t we had this conversation before?” Harry spoke softly and Severus looked at him guardedly. The boy was smiling at him and he couldn’t help but hate himself more for it. Did he deserve such kindness, he wondered.

  “Harry you don’t understand! You almost died and I…”

  “But I didn’t! I’m fine, look!” He said coming closer and hugging Severus tight, “I’m fine, Dad.” He whispered making Severus break down to uncontrolled tears, completely forgetting the third party of their company. It wasn’t for another good fifteen minutes and a hundred more apologies that they both remembered of the man that had brought them there.

  “I’m… you didn’t have to see…” Severus muttered as he sat back in his armchair, never letting go of Harry. Showing his emotions openly was something he didn’t often allow himself and showing them to a complete stranger? Severus felt completely mortified of his reaction.

  “It is more than understandable.” Merlin said smiling. “But Harry is right; no matter the mistakes you made in the past, you can’t stop living. You have been given a second chance Severus and I suggest you use it.” Severus nodded once. “You seem to have done a great job up to now.”

  “He was born like that.” He said motioning at Harry. “I’m just along for the ride.”

  “You’d be surprised, Severus, at how much you have affected him.” Merlin said as both wizards watched him carefully. “As much as he has affected you, I imagine.”

  “So, am I really the Boy Who Lived?” Harry asked in wonder, unable to withhold his questions for another second.

  “Yes. And I believe you should both hear the complete prophecy before you draw any more conclusions.”

  “There is more to it?” Severus asked shocked. “And how can you know there is?”

  “Yes, there is more.” Merlin nodded with a smile. “And as for how I know it… let’s say that being married to my wife has its benefits.”

  “Wife?” Severus inquired surprised.

  “You have heard of the famous which and seer Morgana Le Fay I assume.” Merlin stated chuckling.

  “Morgana is your wife? _Morgana_ _Le_ _Fay_? I thought you were enemies!” Severus exclaimed.

  “We didn’t start of on the best ground but I would advice you to not believe all of the stories you hear, especially about me. But the point here is that my wife _is_ a seer and, due to circumstances I’ll explain immediately, she did see the prophecy that was made that night.”

  “This is just…” Severus exclaimed, finishing his sentence with a shrug that stated his confusion.

  “Let me start from the basics then.” Merlin said. “There are two conditions for those who live in Avalon; one, we do not reveal the way to find it to outsiders and two, once we enter we can’t leave and we don’t intervene with the rest of the world.”

  “Then what is this if not an intervention?” Severus asked confused.

  “There is a general exception to the rule; if by any chance upon entering, one has left unfinished business with the rest of the world, they are entitled to intervene, granted that they find a way to do so without leaving Avalon.” Merlin elaborated.

  “And your unfinished business was?” Severus asked expectantly as Harry waited in silence.

  “A few years before Morgana and I passed through the gates of Avalon, she made a prophecy that involves the two of you.”

  “Morgana Le Fay has made a prophecy regarding us?” Harry asked in awe.

  “Yes. But I’m afraid the context of that prophecy I can not yet reveal.”  
  “What? Why can’t you sir?” Severus asked annoyed. “It does concern us after all.”

  “It does concern you two but not only you.” Merlin stated calmly. “There are other people included whose time to hear the prophecy has not yet arrived. When it does, you will hear it too.” He concluded and Severus nodded; he didn’t know much about prophecies and he wasn’t about to question Merlin’s knowledge on the subject. “But I can tell you the second prophecy made solely about Harry; Morgana saw it too as a direct consequence of her own prophecy, thus I’m in the place to extend that knowledge to you.” Merlin said and removed an odd looking wand from his pocket. He moved it vertically once and an eerie voice echoed in the room.

  _"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."_

  The room fell silent as the ominous words rang in their minds. How could this be, Severus asked himself yet again. And what would happen now? And what…

  “Wait a moment!” The young professor exclaimed, making both Harry and -to his eternal surprise- Merlin, jump on their seats. “The prophecy states that whoever was chosen to defeat the Dark Lord would be marked as his equal. No matter how Adrian’s scar came to be, wasn’t he the one marked?”

  “Valid point.” Merlin offered waving his wand towards Harry in a swift movement, pausing over the boy’s waist. “But I’m afraid untrue; Harry, if you wouldn’t mind, could you please lift your shirt?” Harry looked at the old wizard perplexed and then turned to Severus questioningly. After he received a brief nod, he lifted his shirt slightly to show…

  “What is _that_?” The green eyed boy exclaimed with fear as he noticed the top of what appeared to be a mark on his hipbone. He lowered his jeans ever so little and was met with the sight of what resembled a type of a Celtic knot. It wasn’t similar to anything else he had ever seen; it was black and shaped like an eight pointed star, almost three inches tall and two, maybe two and a half wide.

  “That is the mark referred in the prophecy; it was not created _because_ of Voldemort but was forced to appear sooner than it should due to his intervention, thus marking Harry as his equal.” Merlin explained.  
  “But _what_ is it?” Severus asked fretting. “It wasn’t there before, was it Harry?”

  “No!” The boy said softly touching the mark as if afraid he would get burned. His reaction made Merlin chuckle openly.

  “You think this is funny?” An annoyed Severus asked, swearing the continuous and rapid change between fear and anger was going to lead him straight to St. Mango’s.

  “Harry just reminded me of another young wizard’s reaction to his mark. He had barely turned seven himself and he thought he had been cursed and was doomed to die within the day.” The old wizard said merrily.

  “Is there someone else with a mark like Harry’s?” Severus asked in relief. “If you tell me where he is, I will go and…”

  “No need to search far Severus.” Merlin stopped him with a smile. “You’re looking at him.” He stated and lifted his right sleeve; there, on his forearm, stood a mark similar to Harry’s. It was black too and fashioned like a Celtic knot but it was surrounded by small orbs, barely a quarter of an inch wide, situated between and above the points of the knot.

  “But what is it?” Harry asked again, calmer now that somebody else had a mark like him. Severus on his part -even if he would later deny he even broke a sweat- was close to hyperventilating. Harry, his innocent little boy, was sharing a mark with _Merlin_?

  “It’s called an emblem Harry; during my time it was more common to find one amongst witches and wizards. Once they reached a certain age, they preformed the spell necessary and, if they were magically strong enough, their emblem would appear on some part of their body.” Merlin explained. “The main emblem depends on the wizard and his abilities are stated on it.” He pointed at some runes fashioned inside the lines on the knot. “Those will appear when you first use an ability you possess. But see those circles surrounding the emblem?” Harry nodded. “You see Harry, emblems were, besides of a boast of how strong a wizard was, a way to mark your progress in magic. Each time you begin apprenticing, meaning each time you begin to study a subject on magic, you create the possibility for such a circle to appear. Once your magic deems you have reached an appropriate level in the specific subject, the circle will appear, marking you an apprentice on that subject of magic. That circle will remain black until your magic has once again deemed you ready to be called a master on that subject. When that happens, the color of the circle will change according to the subject you study. Take for example this one.” Merlin said and pointed a dark green circle in the upper right corner oh his mark. “That circle marks me as a master of potions, while that one” he said pointing to a dark blue circle “marks me as master of charms.”

  “And I’ll get circles like these?” Harry asked in awe.

  “Yes you will; _if_ you practice that is.” Merlin said with a smile as Harry regarded his emblem with a renewed interest. “You took it better than I did; I insisted I was going to burst into flames for a whole hour after I was told what an emblem was.” The old wizard admitted, making Harry giggle.

  “Excuse me for a second.” Severus said with a forced calm voice. “If I understood correctly, you said that the emblem only appeared after a spell was cast. In Harry’s case though…”

  “In Harry’s case, just as in mine, it was our magic itself that created the emblem. I never did figure out why, but after many years I have concluded that it was its way of saying; hey notice me, I’m here!” Merlin said in utmost seriousness.

  “Really? It’s just a caprice of your magic that made it appear? Is it just random?” Severus asked unconvinced.

  “I never said it was random; I believe that my magic, just as Harry’s begged to come out, to be trained, to expand, and the emblem was the way it made it known to us.” Merlin elaborated. “Not that hard to grasp I believe.” He said looking at Harry fondly.

  “Then there’s a lot to talk about when we get back.” Severus said and sighed.

  “What?” Harry asked taking his eyes off his mark. “Why?”

  “You’re the Boy Who Lived, Harry.” Severus said with a rueful smile. “Don’t you think they, and by they I mean your family first and foremost, will want to know?” Harry just stood looking at Severus in deep thought, his expression too contemplative to be pulled of flawlessly by a seven year old.

  “If we _do_ tell them, what do you think will happen?” He asked in all seriousness.

  “I suspect they will start your training as they should have already. You’ll even get a wand!” He tried to sound cheerful but inside he was slowly dying. Training for Harry meant he would never get to see him until he enrolled to Hogwarts in four years. Maybe he would get to see Adrian instead but really, he’d rather not. Adrian wasn’t Harry; _nobody_ was Harry. Severus felt like he was losing his family all over again.

  “So they will take me to see all those unnecessary experts and have me read textbooks I have already finished? And what will happen to Adrian?”

  “I can’t know what your training will require; as for Adrian, he will probably switch places with you.” That shocked Harry to the core; would they really do that?

  “But…” he turned to Merlin and asked “I’m stronger than Adrian, right?” The old wizard nodded with a smile, seeing where Harry was headed. Severus frowned; Harry wasn’t one to boast. “If I’m stronger, won’t Adrian need _more_ training than me?” The boy asked hopefully looking at Severus who smiled softly after a soft moment of surprise. “He will be a target once we grow up, if the Dark Lord returns, won’t he? Won’t training help him survive?”

  “It’s very noble of you Harry, but you need to train too. You will be the primary target when the Dark Lord returns whether your parents know it or not.” Severus said with a sad smile.

  “ _You_ can train me then Sev!” Harry said smiling.

  “Harry, I couldn’t possibly…”  
  “Yes you could!” The boy insisted with a passion, his eyes glowing with a feverish light. “I’ve seen the books they intend to give Adrian for training and you have already helped me with much more difficult stuff! And you won’t take me all over the world just to see experts who won’t find anything! And Adrian can keep training and I won’t have to go to all these gatherings he goes with our parents!” Harry said in one breath and then softly whispered. “And I won’t have to go away…” Severus felt his spirits lift; maybe he could do this. He was after all the youngest potions master in centuries and proficient in many different branches of magic. And to top it all, he was also a professor. He turned his eyes to Merlin, silently asking him for his advice. The man was smiling like crazy.

  “I think it’s a great idea!” The old wizard exclaimed as Harry jumped up and down excitedly.  
  “But you said Harry’s magic is reaching out to be expanded and…”

  “And did I mention I was mostly self-taught?” Merlin asked with a smile. “There was no such thing as a wizarding school in my time, just lots of books. And, if I may say so myself, I didn’t end up that bad.”

  “But that will mean you won’t be able to tell anybody you’re the Boy Who Lived Harry.” Severus stressed his point to make sure the boy knew what he was getting into.

  “I don’t care!” Harry stated with a smile. “Adrian will get the training he needs and I will be left alone to train as I want. Oh, please Sev, say yes!” And at the sight of those huge, pleading eyes, he couldn’t say anything else. Harry was jumping up and down with joy as Severus approached Merlin smiling softly.

  “Are you sure this is the right thing for him, sir?” He asked the famous wizard who also smiled at the antics of the little boy in front of him.

  “He has the potential to be someone great Severus and to do that he needs more than just training, not that you won’t be able to give him that. He needs someone to love him unconditionally and to guide him through the rough patches along the road.”

  “And do you think that’s me?” Severus asked disbelieving.

  “I know that’s you Severus.” Merlin answered cryptically.

  “You _know_?”

  “Remember how Harry called you when you told him about the prophecy?”

  “He called me ‘Dad’.” Severus whispered.

  “I can’t tell you how the prophecy my wife made goes exactly but I can assure you that you are supposed to help Harry though his life; and not because a prophecy dictates it.” Merlin explained. “Prophecies are mere guidelines you must understand; you are supposed to help Harry with his life because you’re the one who wants to help him the most; you’re the one who cares the most. Could you imagine giving him up?”

  “I would never!” Severus swore at that moment that he would stand by Harry’s side no matter what.

  “Sev! Do you think I can get a wand now?” Harry asked out of the blue, approaching the two men.

  “You do not have a wand?” Merlin asked confused.

  “No sir; I’m only seven.”

  “In my time we got our first wands at seven.” The old wizard commented shrugging.

  “That’s so unfair! We have to wait until we’re _eleven_!” The boy complained, crossing his hands over his chest, making the two men laugh at his attempt to be stern.

  “It does seem unfair.” Merlin noted and then added in a more serious tome. “About your wand now Harry, I’m afraid there might be a problem.”

  “What problem, sir?” Severus asked confused. To his surprise, Merlin drew his own wand; the young man realized why it had seemed different on first sight. It was simply because it _was_ ; the main body of the wand was wooden, as normal as it could be, but the handle was decorated with a white metal.

  “The metal is silver and it’s not just for decoration.” The old wizard clarified. “This is a custom wand; it’s specifically designed to respond to my magic. It has a core of various materials in a different quantity than normal wands so that it can respond better to me. It is modeled to much my core perfectly.” He turned and looked at Severus. “Explain to your wandmaker that you want a custom wand and he will explain what you have to do in turn.”

  “What would happen if I bought a normal wand?” Harry asked curious.

  “It would work at first and then it would burn out; you need a wand accustomed to you Harry. Though wandless magic is possible, it can’t be used for everything; your wand will be your greatest ally.” Severus was considering asking how could a wand burn out when the room seemed to shift on its axis. “Dear me.” Merlin muttered. “The spell must be wearing off.”

  “If we need something, if we have any questions…” Severus began to ask before Merlin stopped him.

  “I will not be able to help; I will seek you out when the time is nigh for you to learn the second prophecy.”

  “But if we need something…”

  “Trust in Harry Severus and trust in yourself; you will do great.” Merlin reassured him as Harry Held tight onto his waist to prevent himself from falling as the room shifted again.

  “How can you be so sure?” Severus asked, fighting to keep his eyes open.

  “If I have learned one thing and one thing alone in my life that would be to trust my wife.” Merlin said smiling. Severus was unconvinced.

  “I understand the second prophecy is about Harry, but are you sure it’s about me too?”

  “If you want to be sure Severus, the second prophecy, among others speaks about the man who is supposed to teach Harry, the man who is supposed to guide him; _the father of the son who is not the son, father in heart and soul and everything but blood_.” Now tell me Severus, who else could that be? I can feel it inside you two, the magical bond between families. Trust yourself and trust Harry, Severus.”

  And with those words, Severus woke up on the floor of his office, Harry stirring next to him. He stumbled to his feet and gently shook Harry awake. The boy opened his eyes slightly before closing them again with a sigh.

  “Dad?” He asked as Severus picked him up.

  “It’s just me Harry.” The potions master offered, still not knowing what the proper way to react to such a statement was.

  “I know.” The boy answered as Severus headed to the fireplace to take them home. Tomorrow they would have to make a trip to Diagon Alley but for now, Harry should rest and he was coming down with a headache himself. With a last glimpse at a now empty portrait, Severus walked into the green flames, his mind already planning the curriculum Harry would be most interested in.


	8. What's In A Wand?

The next day dawned much like the one before. Severus tried to ignore the first rays of the sun coming from the eastern window in an act of defiance; he might be a professor now but it was August damn it! With a groan, he buried his head underneath his pillow, deciding to sleep for at least an hour more or so. He had seen the most amazing dream last night, involving Merlin, Harry and himself having a conversation about how Harry was the Boy Who Lived in a library he had conjured inside his mind. All that of course, after Merlin had cast a spell on him and Harry from the usually empty portrait in his office. He grunted at his imagination; no wonder he felt like his head had been ran over by a pack of rabid Hippogriffs.

Then again, in his dream Harry had called him Dad, something that in Severus's books was worth all the headaches in the world. Of course, that only solidified the fact that he should sleep more and dream less but…

"Sev, Sev, Sev!" Something small and hyperactive started bouncing on his bed with glee, startling him halfway to a heart attack. "Wake up Sev!" That something -which under close inspection through heavy leaded eyes turned out to be Harry- kept bouncing on the bed coming closer and closer, begging him to wake up.

"By Merlin's beard, Harry!" Severus groaned hiding his head once again under the pillows; he had managed to take a quick peek at the clock on his bed table. It was still twenty past six. "The  _sun_  isn't even completely up yet! Have some mercy kid."

"But Merlin said I should get my wand and you promised we'd go today! Come on Sev! You promised!" Merlin had said what? How did Harry know about his dream? Goblins' gold! Severus rose from his bed with a sudden jerk, eyes wide open and hair in complete disarray. So was it true, he wondered as his eyes travelled towards Harry.

"Your wand?" Severus asked trying to ascertain he had heard correctly.

"Yes! You said we could go today? Oh, do you still have a headache? Sorry for bouncing on the bed. Do you want me to bring you some tea?" Harry was speaking rapidly, barely stopping to take a breath, making Severus smile slightly despite himself.

"I did promise did I not?" Severus asked as he rubbed his eyes open. One last check couldn't mind… "And how is your mark today?" He asked half expecting Harry to look at him like he had gone insane.

"Just the same as yesterday! Look!" He stated and pointed at the part of the symbol that was visible over his jeans; it was undeniably there, just as Severus had remembered it from his dream, or more likely, from last afternoon's events.

"Okay fine, we'll go." Severus decided to resign to his fate; so, he had met Merlin last day and he discovered being part of a prophecy along with Harry, who was in truth the one supposed to defeat the Dark Lord for good. Now he was also supposed to train him in secret as the Potters and the rest of the magical community of the country –and the world- believed his brother was the actual Boy Who Lived. And he had agreed on that because?

Because Harry had given him  _that_  look he was directing at him once again. Oh, and because, apparently, Merlin thought it was a great idea and so did an ancient prophecy made by non other than Morgana Le Fay, incidentally Merlin's wife. His life had sure gotten more complicated since Harry had appeared. And he wouldn't have it any other way.

"Come on we'll be late!" The boy exclaimed and jumped off the bed and towards the stairs.

"Slow down, Harry! First of all, it's dangerous to run down the stairs and secondly, the shops in Diagon Alley open at seven. We have exactly," he turned once again towards his alarm clock "thirty five minutes till then."

"Oh okay." Harry said considering what he had heard. "I'll go make breakfast!" he stated and walked down the stairs with a skip in his step. Better go down to help him, Severus thought to himself as he had a quick shower and got dressed. Harry had already been dressed when he woke him up he realized and tried to imagine when the boy had woken up himself. Shaking his head with mirth, he went down the stairs and towards the kitchen where he found the seven year old wizard pouring tea carefully into two cups he had placed on the table. Smiling at the view he approached him.

"Good morning officially, Harry." He said smiling wider as he eyes the toast Harry had placed on the kitchen counter. "How long have you been up?"

"Since five; I couldn't sleep!" He stated excitedly drinking his milk in large gulps.

"Slow down Harry! You won't get a wand if you drown yourself!" Severus admonished cheerfully as Harry's eyes bulged and he drank slower.

"Sorry Sev." The boy murmured, his cheeks blushing a faint pink.

"It's understandable." The young professor said smiling. "But we have to make a few things clear if we're really going through with this." Harry nodded. "One, your wand will stay with me when you are at the Potter Manor; those hours you can read up on theory that will help you practice." Harry nodded his head in agreement. "Two, you will not speak of this to anyone; if you want things to stay as they are, your training is to be kept secret." Severus regarded the boy carefully. "If you want to tell your parents at any given time I won't judge or try to stop you, but, once it happens, it will be final, okay?"

"I won't tell Sev." Harry stated resolutely. "I'm the one who asked to be trained like that, remember?" Severus smiled and continued.

"Number three, you'll have to study hard. Not that I doubt you will, I just had to get it out of my chest." The potions master added as he noticed Harry was just about to protest. "And finally, let's not speak about meeting Merlin outside these walls." Severus said with a smirk. "It will be hard to train you from St Mungo's psychological ward." Harry giggled at the last statement but agreed nonetheless.

"Now can we go?" Harry asked unable to rein his enthusiasm any longer. He was practically bouncing on his chair and Severus decided to take pity on him.

"Go get your cloak." He stated in a form of an answer as Harry giggled excitedly before giving him a tight -albeit short- hug and running to get his cloak. The boy had potential, Severus had always known and having a wizard like Merlin agree was just added proof to that fact. Severus couldn't wait to see how Harry would evolve with the years; and, as the green eyed boy came back inside the room bursting with joy, he repeated the oath he had silently given last day. He would be there for Harry come what may and he would make certain that, no matter all the prophecies and destinies, the boy would enjoy his life; that Harry would have a childhood he could be able to look back and smile at fondly when he was older and not spend all his days single-mindedly devoted to training. Defeating all the Dark Lords in the world would never make up for such a loss.

"Ready Sev!" Harry exclaimed grabbing the young man by the arm and leading him towards a repaired fireplace. Severus marveled on the fact he had had enough presence of mind last night to cast the spells needed without damaging the wall any further. They flooed to the Leaky Cauldron and from there walked straight to Diagon Alley without stopping to converse with anybody; not that there were many people there to begin with at such an early hour.

"First stop Gringotts and from there we go for your wand." Severus said to the skipping boy beside him, bringing him to an abrupt standstill. "What's wrong Harry?"

"It's just that… Sev I don't have any money and…" Severus started laughing at the great shock of the boy.

"Harry, I will be responsible for you training, so I believe it falls to me to present you with all the necessary equipment, may that be a wand or whatever." The potions master assured Harry, motioning him to start walking again. "Besides kid, I have told you about my mother's family and all the money I have inherited from her. I believe it's time I put them to good use." His smile seemed to reassure the young boy enough to stop protesting. Talking about his mother's inheritance… Harry would need space to practice and his house at Spinner's End didn't allow such luxury. Maybe it was time… But he would think about that later, he decided, as they entered the grand marble building that was the magical bank. After a fast ride on the wagon that Harry -and Severus though he was loath to admit it- enjoyed, they entered the vault where Harry just observed the piles of gold in awe as the young professor gathered the money needed for the day.

It was ten minutes later that the two wizards stood outside Ollivander's, Severus remembering the first time he lay eyes on that shop to buy his wand; his mother had died a year prior and his father had let him go alone. He took the scared boy's hand and led him through the door, determined he would never had to live through such an experience.

"Mr. Snape! Or professor now, is it not?" An old man with white hair and the most intense blue eyes Harry had ever seen asked; Harry couldn't make heads or tails of him. "And young Harry Potter! Earlier than I expected to see you, but then again your brother was here a few days ago himself. An ebony wand he chose, with a dragon's heart string; flexible and good for transformation, just like your father's! I say he chose, but in truth it is the wand that chooses the wizard Mr. Potter." Harry was getting more and more agitated as Mr. Ollivander spoke and Severus, understanding the boy's fear, stopped the wandmaker's monologue.

"We would like to get Harry his wand Mr. Ollivander."

"But of course! Now tell me Mr. Potter, which is your wand hand?" Harry looked at Severus confused.

"Your dominant hand Harry." He said smiling.

"Oh, I'm right handed sir." Harry said startled and proceeded to follow Mr. Ollivander's instructions as a silver measuring tape flew around him on its own, taking measures of his arm, hand and palm.

"I see!" Ollivander said clapping his hands once. "I will return shortly with…"

"Wait a second Mr. Ollivander!" Severus stopped him before he managed to go behind the counter to fetch a wand.

"Yes, Mr. Snape?" The wandmaker asked surprised.

"Harry will require a custom made wand." Ollivander's eyebrows were lost inside his hairline as he regarded Severus.

"I can understand why you would want a custom wand Mr. Snape but let me assure you that, besides the rumors circulating about such wands, not everybody can use them!" Ollivander said, picking one of the boxes behind the counter. "It is a rare occurrence for such a wand to be made and trust me when I say, most wizards, almost everyone I have even met, have their magic identifying perfectly with that of the creature from which their wand core is derived."

"I'm not trying to tell you how to do your job Mr. Ollivander, I'm just stating that…"

"Try this wand Mr. Potter; oak with a unicorn hair for a core. Just give it a wave." The old wandmaker stated ignoring Severus. The young professor was seething but opted on not stating anything just to get the satisfaction of saying 'I told you so' later on. He nodded at Harry, who had looked at him for help, with a smirk. Harry observed the wand in the box in front of him warily; give it a wave, Mr. Ollivander had said… But maybe… he picked the wand from its box carefully and waved it as he had observed Severus do countless of times.

" _Lumos._ " He commanded and watched in shock as a bright light erupted from the tip of the wand, getting brighter and brighter for a few seconds, before it burst into splinters in his hand. Ollivander regarded him with wild eyes while Severus smirked; so  _that's_  what happens when a wand burns out.

"As I said Mr. Ollivander, Harry will require a custom wand." He spoke calmly as he approached the startled boy to make sure no splinters had injured him in any way.

"I'm so sorry Mr. Ollivander." The boy uttered his apology with wide green eyes.

"It's quite alright my boy." Olivander stated shocked. "Follow me Mr. Potter, Mr. Snape." And he took a golden key from his office, leading the two wizards to the workshop of his store through a locked door. "It has been quite some time since I have made a custom wand." He uttered as they walked; the workshop was a large space filled with various types of wandwood and cores, ingredients inside boxes, the smell of wood and wax filling the area.

"What does a custom wand entail exactly Mr. Ollivander?" Severus asked interested.

"The main idea of a custom wand is that various core ingredients gather together to form a single core that depicts the magical trace of the wand bearer." The old wandmaker explained. "Based to arithmancy studies there are three types of assorted wand cores; a three parts, a five parts and a seven parts core. Judging from the quite violent reaction Mr. Potter elicited from his attempt at magic, I believe a seven parts core wand will be able to regulate and depict his magical signature better." Harry was just staring at the two men expectedly. Severus nodded in understanding.

"And how will that work?" He asked, trying to comprehend how Harry's wand would operate.

"There will be one core ingredient, the central part if you want, that depicts the basic character of the bearer's magic. Then, three supportive core ingredients to capture the variations of his magic will be added, followed by three binding ingredients that balance the effect of the core. Then the wandwood will be chosen, followed by a metal to bind the handle and help the magical flow. I believe that covers it all." Ollivander said motioning for Harry to come forward. The boy did as asked.

"And what will Harry have to do?" Severus asked finally. Ollivander turned to Harry who was looking at him confused and a little bit scared.

"No need to fear Mr. Potter. I want you to close your eyes for a moment." Ollivander said, causing Harry to turn to Severus for aid.

"It's okay Harry, do as Mr. Ollivander says." Harry sighed and nodded, closing his eyes.

"Now, I want you to breathe slowly in and out. In and out. Try not to think of anything specific, just focus on breathing." Harry felt a little stupid, standing there doing nothing, but kept breathing deeply as instructed. Finally, as he relaxed, he started feeling a soft buzz coming from around him, as if various pieces of the room vibrated softly.

"What's that buzzing sound?" Harry asked in soft voice, not opening his eyes.

"Your wand Mr. Potter." Ollivander answered cryptically. "Now I want you to open your eyes slowly and focus on that sound." Harry opened his eyes carefully and tried to see where the sound was coming from; it seemed to be everywhere. "Follow the sound Mr. Potter and bring me the objects that produce it." Harry walked around the room hesitating. The loudest noise was coming from a box on the far corner of the room… He traced towards it slowly and fumbled around a bit until his eyes fell on a golden feather that seemed to radiate warmth. He reached for it and, the moment he touched it, that warmth extended from it to his body and the humming stopped. He turned confused at the wandmaker. "Bring the feather here Mr. Potter and keep going."

"Okay…" Harry said nodding as he left the wand on the table where Ollivander had pointed and moved around the room following the humming. Six more ingredients were gathered on the table before a soft whispering sound caught Harry's attention. It was different than the other components, softer somehow and the last of the two sounds remaining; it turned out to be a branch of wood of a dark brown colour. The last murmuring sound came from an assortment of boxes on a self in the back of the room; he had to climb on a chair and move a few boxes around to locate the source of the sound. It was a small wooden box which he opened only to find a large piece of a gleaming metal. "It's purple." Harry stated confused as he touched the lump of metal in the box.

"So are these all?" Severus asked carefully eyeing the assorted items as Harry approached with the metal.

"They are. And quite the collection they make." Ollivander said, picking up a red phoenix feather. "Curious. Very curious." He stated observing the feather.

"Excuse me sir, but what's curious?" Harry asked softly.

"It's curious that this feather is destined to be a part of your wand Mr. Potter when a second feather given by the same phoenix lies in the core of the wand that gave your brother his famous scar." Ollivander said as Severus moved closer to put his hand on the shoulder of a frozen in fear Harry. Did that man have to intimidate his poor boy further?

"I would appreciate it if you told us what the rest ingredients of the wand are." He said trying to change the topic.

"Why yes, as I said, an interesting collection of ingredients!" Ollivander exclaimed. "The main core you selected is from a golden phoenix, quite a rare bird, even amongst phoenixes. Then for support you have yet another phoenix feather -quite a fiery temperament!- the heart string of a Hungarian Horntail and… dear me, a heart string from a Nundu."

"A Nundu?" Severus asked the image of the giant deadly leopard, native in Africa, coming to his mind.

"Quite interesting, no?" Olivander asked as Harry stood in awe of what was to be his wand. "And to bring them all together you have picked a Unicorn's and a Thestral's hair -quite the opposites- and that golden hair is from a Re'em."

"Isn't a Re'em some sort of ox?" Harry asked in surprise.

"You could say that Harry." Severus muttered thinking of the tales he had heard of the magnificent golden haired creatures.

"The wandwood you have chosen is called Lignum Vitae. The hardest wood in the world that is, many call it ironwood. If you believe in fairy tales, it's said that Merlin's wand was made from the very same wood but that's just speculation of course."

"Don't you say?" Severus asked humorously as Harry blushed a deep crimson.

"And the metal you have chosen is called hepatizon. It's now singularly goblin made but it has its origins in ancient Greece; it was once called Corinthian bronze." Ollivander said contemplatively.

"And when will the wand be ready?" Severus asked, feeling how nervous Harry was getting under Ollivander's gaze.

"I normally don't have a lot of work during this time of the year, so if you stopped by this afternoon around four, it should be ready." The wandmaker said, walking the two wizards out, intent on starting to work immediately.

"I can trust your discretion of course." Severus added darkly as they exited the store, channelling the part of him that had made Death Eaters cringe at the mention of his name. The wandmaker nodded.

"It is a pleasure to make such a wand and possibly a one in a lifetime opportunity; you can trust I will not speak of it to anyone." Accepting his word, Severus bid him good day and led Harry out in the street. He would still keep an eye on Ollivander; the man was generally disinterested of what happened in the outside world and too devoted to his work to even bother telling about the wand but should he choose to speak… well, Severus thought, accidents happened daily. He smiled at Harry who was still looking at the now closed door of the shop over his shoulder.

"That was… interesting." The green eyed boy commented numbly as Severus chuckled. He was extremely proud of how Harry had dealt with the, admittedly scary, wandmaker.

"Your wand will be amazing Harry." Severus said making the boy's face shine with happiness. "No need to return home just to came back in the afternoon." The potions master offered, pretending not to notice the wide smile on Harry's face as he spoke. "I say we spend our day here and…"

"Thank you Sev!" Harry said laughing, holding onto Severus for dear life. "Can we go to Flourish & Blotts too? Oh and at Quidditch Quality Supplies?" Harry asked prattling happily on Severus's side. Severus just laughed at his antics and nodded. He could not remember what the last time since he had had so much fun visiting Diagon Alley had been. Perhaps never.

After a lengthy stop at Flourish & Blotts and a dozen of purchases later, the two wizards headed for the Quidditch store where Harry talked about all he knew about the sport how much he would like to learn how to fly on a broom or go to Quidditch game, something his father and Adrian did together all the time. Severus grudgingly admitted he did enjoy the sport, or used to, before the whole experience was somewhat ruined by James Potter during his fourth year. He narrated how James and Sirius had tried to pull a prank to the Slytherin team and ended up in detention, making Harry burst in laughter. They ate in the Leaky Cauldron and when the time came, returned to Ollivander's for Harry's wand.

"Welcome back!" The old wizard greeted them merrily. "Mr. Potter, I'm proud to present you with your wand." Ollivander opened a black wand box and pulled back the protective cloth, allowing the wand to show. It was beautiful to Harrys' eyes. The dark colour was complimented with the soft gleam of the hepatizon that twirled in delicate vine patterns on the hilt. Harry softly gathered the wand in his arms and the held it confidently as a familiar warmth entered his body. "A perfect fit!" Ollivander exclaimed.

"What is the metal doing?" Severus asked noticing something on the wand; and truly, it was like the metal of the hilt moved and extended towards the base of the wand, softly carving the wood, creating a pattern that looked a lot like…

"Is that a Celtic knot?" Ollivander asked interested. "It's customary for a wand such as yours to create a symbol on its base; you can say it's the wand's way to identify, to name itself." The wandmaker explained. "Does that symbol mean anything to you Mr. Potter?" Harry simply nodded as he stared at the familiar star now etched on his wand. Here we go, thought Severus simply, sharing a knowing look with Harry and a smile. So many things to do and, for once, all the time in the world to achieve them. Severus started planning.

  
  



	9. Home Is Where The Hear Is

It had been close to a week since Harry had first acquired his wand and ever since the days at Spinner's End had fallen into a steady rhythm; wake up, eat breakfast, practice, have lunch, practice, stop for dinner, sleep. A program that would have, perhaps, seemed exceedingly dull to an observer, but Harry was having the time of his life; with every new spell he tried, he could fell his magic stirring inside him, finally getting the training it had been begging for. And while the green eyed wizard was focusing on his studies, a matter of some importance was bothering Severus's thoughts.

He was once again seated on his favorite armchair, watching over Harry as the boy brewed a simple shrinking potion on his own; it was the third time he had tried to brew something alone and Severus was proud to report all previous work they had done while Harry was growing up was showing. All his attempts so far had been successful -not quite perfect yet but better than what many first year students had managed in his class- and Severus felt more proud for his progress than he had for any of his students. Then again, he figured, he didn't love any of his students like they were his own children. And that led him back to his present debate.

Harry would need a place to train his magic in full scale; at the moment, the problem wasn't so obvious because he was still teaching him simple spells such as  _Lumos_  -to which he had already shown some aptitude- and  _Alohamora_ , so that he could get an idea of how his magic felt before they moved to more advanced spells. But later on, even with the simplest defense spells, they would need space that was simply not offered by his house at Spinner's End. There was always the alternative…

"And once to the left…" Harry was murmuring as he stirred the potion, smiling when it took the soft pink colour it was supposed to. Severus held back his chuckle so he wouldn't cut the boy's concentration short. The green eyed wizard was doing a great job and he had the means to help him evolve further; how could he be selfish enough not to do so?

Because there  _was_  a place where he could train Harry in every luxury but… He closed his eyes and sighed. He hadn't visited his mother's family estate since his uncle had died. And back then he had skimmed through the objects now in his possession, had taken only what had seemed to be an empty canvas -and see how that one turned out- before he left a few quick orders to the house elves and fled the estate as fast as possible. He was in a dark place back then and being in his mother's home had stung.

Truth be told, Severus thought as he opened his eyes to peer at Harry and his now green potion, it still stung. The Princes where supposed to be his family and his only connection to the magical world after his mother had died. But instead of caring for him they had acted on their pureblood prejudices and completely shunned him during his childhood. It was the first time in over a decade that he had stepped foot in the Prince estate when his uncle had died ad he had spent the next five years pretending it didn't exist. But now…

"Sev look!" Harry exclaimed as he pointed at the soft green and bubbling potion. "I think it's ready!" He smiled with joy, his black hair even messier because of the fumes and his green eyes sparkling. No point in dwelling in the past, Severus thought as his spirits lifted at Harry's expression of happiness.

"It is ready." Severus confirmed as he stirred the potion gently before gathering it in a vial and labeling it, storing it in the cabinet where he had decided to keep all of Harry's potions. "Well done Harry! You do seem to have gotten the knack of it." The potions master commended making Harry's face shine with the praise.

"You think so?" He asked with wide eyes. His hand absentmindedly rubbed the spot next to his navel, were the top of his emblem was located.

"Yes, I do. All you need is practice, but the talent is already there." He added observing Harry's movements. "Does your emblem hurt Harry?" The potions' master asked worriedly.

"No." Harry answered noticing what he was doing. "It felt warm a few seconds ago, but other than that…"

"Let's take a look at it." Severus offered, trying not to sound as worried as he felt. He would have to find a book on emblems and fast. He hated the idea of walking into this blindly. Harry acquiesced and lifted his shirt slowly.

"What is that? Look!" The green eyed boy exclaimed with excitement. There, on the right side of his mark, stood a small runic symbol inside a circle.

"I see." Severus said with a smirk as he translated the rune.

"What? What is it Sev?"

"Your magic seems to have acknowledged your efforts as much as I did; this symbol marks you as an apprentice in potions." The black eyed man offered with a smirk. "Your godfather would have a coronary if he ever found out your first apprenticeship turned out to be in potions."

"Apprenticeship?" Harry asked with wide eyes, staring at the small mark that had added itself on his emblem. "I'm a potions' apprentice now?" He was bouncing on his toes with giddiness as he spoke.

"Yes, and as I said, you have to practice to improve further; it's quite official now after all." Severus confirmed with a smile, ruffling Harry's hair, ignoring the disgruntled  _"Not my hair!"_  from the boy. "And speaking of practicing," Severus said determinedly, this latest development having solidified his decision "I will need to be away for a couple of days to arrange for a… let's say better setting for your future training. I trust you will keep up with your studies while I'm away. I'll check on your progress every night." He added mock seriously.

"A better setting?" Harry asked curiously. "Where?"

"That's a surprise Harry." Severus offered assuming an equally mock superior air. "You shall soon see."

"Will I like it?" The boy asked mischievously.

"You will  _love_  it, you cheeky brat!" The potions' master exclaimed affectionately, ruffling Harry's hair further, eliciting another half-hearted complain from the boy. And true to his word, Severus left early in the morning to visit his solicitors and further survey his estate, making sure it would be ready to welcome Harry. He even did a bit of remodeling upon glancing at the -admittedly extended, due to the collective efforts of his ancestors over the years- library to model a room quite close to a familiar setting of a few days ago. Harry would get a kick out of it, he was certain.

The house elves were delighted with the forthcoming arrival and Severus himself felt the closure taking leave of Spinner's End brought. Spinner's End was the house where he grew up in and most of the memories made there where painful. The Prince estate however, even if it carried the sting of his mother's family rejection, offered a fresh start, a chance to make new memories for himself and the boy he had come to care for as a son. Maybe this would turn out for the best. For Harry and for himself. All that was left, the potions master thought as he returned to Spinner's End at the evening of the second day, was to tell the boy.

"Harry?" Severus asked on the third morning after the declaration of him finding some place to practice.

"Yes, Sev?" The boy spoke over his pancakes.

"Remember the place I told you about, the one I would find for your training?" He asked with a smile.

"Yes?" The boy asked back expectantly, his pancakes close to forgotten.

"I found it."

"You did?"

"I did. And I'm considering, I'm planning actually, to move there permanently." Severus offered with a smile. "If you approve of course."

"If I approve?" Harry asked confused. "Sev it's your house." The boy said solemnly.

"It's your house too; you'll be spending more time there than the Potter manor Harry. And besides, your opinion matters to me." Severus stated truthfully. He was enveloped in a hug so forceful, he almost flew off his chair.

"I love you, Dad." Harry whispered in a tight voice, causing Severus' heart to race. His honorary title felt better every time.

"I love you too, son; that's why I'm asking." How right the title suited the boy, Severus marveled.

"So, where is this place?" Harry asked after a short pause.

"It's some good miles further to the north from Hogwarts, in the closer to the Highlands. I have told you about it; it's my mother's ancestral house." Severus said.

"You want to go back there?" Harry asked softly, showing an understanding older than his years. Severus met his concern with a soft smile.

"It will do me good, I think. And it will help with your training." The potions master reassured the boy.

"So, when can I see it?"

"Eager, aren't we?" Severus chuckled at the sparkle in Harry's green eyes. "I thought we could apparate there after breakfast."

"What are we waiting for then?" Harry asked and moved to get his travel cloak. Severus chuckled again and caught the boy from the collar of his shirt.

"I said  _after_  breakfast, Harry." He said pointing to his still untouched pancakes. Harry dug into his breakfast with renewed fervor, wolfing the pancakes down in a few short minutes.

"Now can we go?" He asked after washing the pancakes down with his milk.

"Since you managed to not choke on your breakfast, I believe we can." And Harry bolted out of the room in haste, returning faster than Severus had ever thought possible. In a few seconds Harry had grabbed hold of Severus' hand and they had apparated in what appeared to be a forest of some sorts. The first thing Harry noticed was the chill in the air; it was definitely colder than what he had been used to in the summer, even at the Potter manor that was up in the north too. The boy looked around, but all he could see was trees on the left and right of what appeared to be a private road.

"Sev, I don't see…"

"Turn around Harry." Severus offered with mirth. Harry did as advised and froze in place, as he tried to comprehend what he saw. He blinked owlishly a couple of times.

"Ehm, Sev?" His green eyes were wide in wonder and, even though he was addressing the potions master, stuck at the building in the distance. "Is this where we'll be staying from now on?" The boy's voice came out squeaky, making Severus laugh and feel for the first time the warmth of having his house considered  _their_  home openly from the boy.

"Yes." He answered laconically, withholding his laughter.

"Sev?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"Your house."

"What about it?"

"It's a castle." Harry said, finally turning to look at the amused black eyed man.

"It might not have occurred to you Harry, but I had already noticed. And it's actually called Silbreith." Severus admitted, using all his training in Occlumency to keep the smile off his face.

"Oh." Harry quipped, turning back to stare the building in the distance that was apparently Silbreith. There, peaking over the trees of the thick pine forest, nestled on what appeared to be a hill, stood the castle Severus claimed to be his ancestral home. It wasn't as grand as Hogwarts for sure -Harry had trouble believing any castle could hold a candle against Hogwarts' splendor- but it was breathtaking in its own accord. Harry could see the turrets from where he stood and counted two, no  _three_  towers rising from the main body of the castle.

"Shall we?" Severus asked with a smile and took a shell-shocked Harry by the hand to lead him towards the castle.

"Are you sure we can stay here?" The boy whispered as if he feared they would be overheard. This time Severus couldn't help himself; he laughed, a rare unguarded laughter that was becoming more of an occurrence as he spent more and more time with the green eyed boy.

"Considering I own the place, yes, I'm sure." Severus stated lightly.

"Wow!" Harry stated in lack of better words to express himself, eliciting yet another laugh from the potions master.

"Would you like to hear a bit about the story of this place?" Severus asked, knowing that harry was going to ask soon anyway.

"Sure!" Harry readily agreed.

"Well, it was built, in its original form, as a keep during the third goblin rebellion when the battles spread nation-wide." Severus explained. "Over the years the estate expanded to include the forests around, was surrounded with an outer wall and made unplottable. I, being the owner of the estate and the last Prince heir, have the ability to apparate inside said wall. Anyway, during the past centuries, rooms, galleries and floors were added, until the castle came to be what it is today." Severus concluded.

"Are there many families that have castle as their ancestral houses?" Harry asked peering towards the castle yet again.

"In Europe quite a few to begin with." Severus explained. "But many were abandoned due to lack of heirs or the demise of the whole families; having the ownership of a magical keep in the Middle Ages meant fighting in wars, leading armies to battles." The potions' master elaborated. "The families whose ancestral homes are mansions are younger, as pureblood families go."

"So the Prince family is older than the Potter line?" Harry asked smiling.

"Why yes." Severus affirmed with a smile of his own. "We didn't always bear the name Prince -the line is called Snape now after all- but the actual bloodline has risen to power before the Potters."

"That's brilliant!" Harry exclaimed.

"I will have to agree." Severus offered chuckling. They continued to walk in silence as Harry appeared to be considering what had been said. "Out with it Harry."

"I was just wondering…" The boy trailed off. "What happens to those castles that are left without an heir?"

"Good question Harry." Severus conceded. "You see, the magical signature of the family is still present on the castle so it cannot just be bought. In result, they remain vacant up to the moment when a wizard or witch appears to break the preexisting wards. It's a very strong form of blood magic, so it's easier said than done."

"But then the castle can be bought?" Harry questioned further.

"It wouldn't come cheap, but yes." Severus confirmed considering the boy's question. Something was going on in that brain of his, he could tell. "As a matter of fact, there is a castle like that not far from here, vacant for over a century." The boy regarded him with bright eyes before nodding once. "Is there anything that bothers you Harry?" The potions master asked as the main gate of the castle appeared around the corner.

"It's just a thought." Harry admitted, sending Severus a look that seemed to belong to a face much older, allowing a glimpse of the man he would one day be shine through. "It's just a thought still but when I have something certain you'll be the first to know Sev, I promise." The boy offered and then proceeded to tug on Severus' hand, urging him on. "Come on Sev! I'll race you to the entrance!" And he took off running before the young professor managed to agree -or disagree for that matter. They both ended up entering the hall still running, Harry laughing all the way there and Severus smiling at the boy's antics.

"Where do you find all that energy?" Severus asked feigning astonishment.

"I won, I won, I won, I…" Harry's sing song voice fainted as he took in his surroundings. The hall was larger than he had imagined it to be, the style much similar to Hogwarts, the stained glass windows showering summer light in a room that appeared frozen in the Middle Ages.

"I take you approve?" Severus asked smirking.

" _You_   _think_?" Was all the answer he got.

"Minnie, Alfie!" The potions' master called, causing two house elves to appear with a loud crackling sound; one was male and one female, both donning what looked like a pillowcase with a coat of arms embodied on the white, clean fabric.

"Master Severus is here! We are happy to receive you sir!" A squeaky voice exclaimed, her owner the female elf called Minnie. Both house elves approached and bowed deeply.

"Harry, these are Minnie and Alfie." Severus introduced them. "Minnie is the head house elf of the castle and Alfie is her husband."

"How many house elves live here?" Harry asked confused as to why a head elf was needed.

"Twelve." Severus offered. "This is a big estate Harry." The potions master reminded the boy who nodded in awed agreement.

"Hello Minnie, Alfie; I'm Harry. Nice to meet you." The boy greeted them politely, causing the two elves to smile and then look confused between him and Severus.

"It's an honor to meet you too, Master Harry." Minnie spoke for both of them once more. "Forgive us for staring Master Harry, but we didn't know Master Severus had a son." Severus's eyes widened in surprise as Harry blushed.

"Harry is not my son, not biologically at least." Severus stated, stressing the  _biologically_  part. "Why would you say he's my son though?" Severus wondered, thinking the assumption a long shot and knowing house elves generally tried to assume as less as possible.

"Forgive us, Master Severus." Minnie said hurriedly bowing her head. "But Master Harry looks like you sir; something in his eyes, something in his magic." The elf looked disgruntled. "But if Minnie was wrong, Minnie will…"

"None of that now that I'm the master of this estate Minnie. You are forbidden to punish yourself, understand?" Severus interrupted her, guessing -correctly- what she was about to say.

"Thank you sir; the Master is most kind sir." The female elf said bowing, tears of gratitude in her eyes.

"Besides Minnie, in a way, you were right; Harry is to be treated exactly as my son while he resides inside these halls. Pass the word on to the other elves too." The two house elves nodded.

"Thank you!" Harry exclaimed and threw his arms around Severus. "Dad." He added in a whisper. Severus smiled and ordered the house elves to show Harry the available bedrooms so he could pick the one he liked the most, while he withdrew to the quarters appointed to the head of the Prince, now Snape, line to think.

The words of his house elf rang still in his ears. Something in Harry's magic she had said, and it hadn't been the first time he had heard words like that being uttered. Hadn't Merlin said something similar? Now, Severus knew there was no way a magical adoption could have taken place as the Potters would have had to disown Harry first, something that was highly unlikely to happen. But there was always a different possibility altogether to be considered and Harry had indeed shown a tendency to attract old magic… It was something he would have to look at and what time would be better to start but now?

 


	10. Masters Of The Keep

Harry was pacing the floors of his new home -and it was home indeed, for he could no longer deny where his heart felt it found its haven- looking around in awe. Sev had always managed to surprise him, but the seven year old wizard, despite his vivid imagination, had not seen that one coming; a castle, really! And to add to that, a castle that used to be a keep, the headquarters of a family of warriors that once upon a time, a long, long time ago, led their armies into battles against goblins and dueling kingdoms.

It didn't take more than that for Harry's mind to start producing images of a time long gone as he run through corridors and pathways, pretending to be a knight or a great warlock on a mission. With no fear of getting lost -Minnie had said all he needed to do was call for her before she went off to supervise the lunch preparations and an apparent renovation at the west tower- he climbed up and down stairs and run through galleries, a great line of Severus' ancestors and prominent figures of the magical world looking over him, smiling from their portraits. It had been a shared opinion amongst them that the boy's appearance had brought a new lease of life inside these halls and to their master as well.

Harry must have been walking around for a full hour before he came upon a set of great, double wooden doors. They reached all the way up to the ceiling and Harry couldn't help himself -he  _did_  have a curiosity streak after all and Severus hadn't said he was disallowed from entering any rooms in the castle. And those doors reaching all the way to the ceiling were unbelievably inviting… With a sigh and a soft smile he made up his mind.

"Better apologize for what you've done than regret not doing it, I say!" He muttered to nobody in specific and pushed the door open with all of his strength. His mouth slacked open at the sight; long live his curiosity streak! It had led him to the castle's library; and it was a room he could recall easily. He spun around slowly as he observed the room; it was immense and the ceiling was twice as high as the corridors' outside the door. Well, the second floor might have had something to do with that, he ventured. Because there  _was_  a second floor, fashioned around the empty space that allowed a great portion of the arched ceiling to be seen, and he could see rows upon rows of bookcases on both floors. The chandelier that hung from the ceiling was unlit but the metal shone in the light coming from the stained glass window covering the central part of the wall further away from him, behind a grand double staircase that led to the upper floor.

"Wow." Harry croaked in shock as he regarded the room petrified for a few more seconds. As he snapped out of his stupor he walked around the room, half expecting Merlin to show up around the next corner; it was, after all, most definitely the library from Severus' mind. And as the boy started pondering on the suspicion he had fallen asleep and was dreaming, he heard his name being called from the stairs.

"You found your way to the library I see." Severus stated chuckling as he walked down the stairs. Harry was once again surprised and not just because he had thought he was alone in the room. Severus looked different; with a quick assessment, the boy understood exactly why that was. He was still wearing the black slacks from that morning but gone were his black cape and shirt. They had been replaced with a white shirt and a dark green vest which, paired with his smile and the few pounds he had put on, made Severus look healthier and every bit the twenty seven year old man that he was. He was holding two leather bound books in his arm and had a spring in his step; it was Severus as he should have been, as he  _would_  have been if it wasn't for Voldemort.

"No black cloak?" Harry asked with a smile.

"I didn't feel like wearing black today." He stated shrugging.

"You were right." The boy stated happily, making Severus' smile widen. He truly had felt like wearing something brighter today, a feat on its own accord as black had been all he had worn since graduation. "This room is amazing!"

"It is." Severus agreed chuckling. "I remodelled it a little to appear like my dream library and I believe the outcome has rewarded my efforts." The potions master smiled at a vigorously nodding Harry. "And how do you like the castle so far? Did you pick a room yet?"

"I did. Minnie said it's in the family quarters, a few doors away from yours." Harry admitted with a smile. "And I love the castle!"

"It's a good thing you do, because we will be spending a lot of time here." Severus offered.

"May I ask you a question?"

"Anything kid."

"What do we tell my family?" Harry asked. "I mean, what happens if they come looking for me at Spinner's End only to find it empty and me gone?"

"I see your point." Severus said thoughtful. "But Harry, in all honesty, when was the last time your family came to pick you up from my house?" The young professor asked with a sad smile. How long had it been since he had last dreamt of Lily living in his house with Harry and himself? Close to a year, maybe a year and a half, he discovered startled. He had no more time to ponder on that subject however as Harry responded.

"Never?" His answering smile was just as sad. When had the last time he had wished his parents would come pick him up from Severus' house been? Too long ago to remember exactly, he realized. Maybe before his fifth birthday. It didn't really matter anymore; Harry had decided that wanting to stay with Severus more than he did with his parents was a natural result of his growing up and didn't mean he did not love his family. It was just that staying with Severus was now a choice made happily and consciously instead of a choice made for him until his parents claimed him.

"Never." Severus agreed. "And this castle… Let's just keep it between us until I'm ready to share, or at least until you're asked directly okay?"

"Okay Sev!" Harry said nodding, making Severus smile yet again at how considerate the boy was. "And what are these books?"

"I figured out these books have been in here since practically forever, so there was bound to be something about emblems in their midst." The potions' master stated, pointing at the larger of the two books that was bound in dark brown leather.

"And you found a book?"

"Yes. Apparently emblems were a hit up until the eighth century before falling out of grace during the first goblin rebellion when it was thought wiser to not showcase your magical abilities to your enemies." Severus explained placing the first book on a table and seating down along with Harry who opened the book eagerly and skimmed through the first page.

"Can I read the book too?" Harry asked. "I promise I won't rip it or…"

"Relax Harry." Severus assured him chuckling. "I found the book for  _you_  and even if you decided to rip it into a thousand pieces you wouldn't be able; all the books of the library are magically protected."

"That's a relief; this looks ancient!" Harry exclaimed. "Heavy too…" He muttered as he tried to lift said book.

"You should exercise more Harry." The young man mock scolded him. It was a thought though.

"And what about the second book?" Harry asked ignoring the suggestion.

"That's for a bit of personal research; it's something that popped into my mind while we talked to Minnie today. If I get something precise, I will tell you." Severus said glancing at the black leather book in front of him.

"Okay." Harry agreed readily, knowing he was going to find out sooner or later. "Sev?" The boy asked after a short pause.

"Yes?"

"Could you come with me to explore around the castle a little?" The boy asked shyly.

"I would think you have seen the majority of it by now…" Severus said with humor as the boy blushed.

"There're still the dungeons that I haven't seen, the east wing and tower too and did you know the western tower is being renovated?" The boy asked in one breath.

"So you did see all the rest?" Severus chuckled raising an eyebrow and quite doubting the boy had time to explore everything. "I was only joking you know." Harry narrowed his eyes in an attempt of a stern look that was completely ruined by a small pout that fought its way on his lips.

"I'll let you play around a little more in the library but then you have to come with me mister!" Harry stated in his better Molly Weasley imitation, making Severus burst out in laughter, an example soon followed by the boy.

"Fine, fine, you win!" Severus conceded, wiping a couple stray tears from his eyes. "Just let me take a look around to see if I find anything else that I need. You may do the same." The potions' master said, quite uselessly, as Harry had already approached the closest bookcase and read the titles in the lower selves. "If you find a subject you like but can't reach the books, call for me. Oh, one last thing!" Severus exclaimed as if he had just remembered. He reached in his pocket and produced Harry's wand. The boy's eyes widened. "As long as you're here, you might as well carry it but don't try new spells without me around, or without me knowing." He stated intently and placed the wand in Harry's extended hand.

"I promise Sev!" The excited boy said, looking at his wand in awe. Severus laughed as he watched him practically hop away; Harry's approach of magic was refreshing to say the least. He was interested in every aspect -maybe not divination but still- learning the basics without prejudice and then deciding if he wanted to know more. But even in his young age he could understand the need for a spherical regard of magic and Severus couldn't help but feel a little pride knowing he was the one that had instilled such an understanding in the boy; Harry would grow up to think for himself and that was one of the best things he could wish for the boy.

Severus turned his attention towards the upper floor and ascended the staircase once again; he had come up with something quite interesting on why Minnie had considered Harry and himself family; a soft smile crept into his face. You have to love magic, he thought to himself and strongly resisted the urge to whistle as he moved towards the bookcase he wanted.

Harry, in the meantime was looking over the many titles at his disposal; books on every subject he could think of were flashing before his eyes and he was slowly getting dizzy with trying to choose one. After a couple more minutes wandering around thus, he made the decision to just grab the largest book he could find and start from there. It was a soft brown leather bound book, decorated with carvings of magical animals and entitled  _The Art Of Warfare Vol.2: Magical Creatures In Battle_. Never having come across any strategy book before, the green eyed wizard became engrossed into his reading almost immediately. It wasn't so much the text, he barely got to read that, as it was the pictures; beautifully drawn pictures of soldiers moving on fields preparing for battle an magical creatures such as hippogriffs and trolls aligned, ready to attack. He spent a good fifteen minutes just watching the tactics the book suggested and was just about to search for a different subject when he decided to turn the page.

His eyes widened in awe. The next chapter of the book was devoted to a breed of creatures that were considered to be one of the greatest assets in battlefields. They weren't something Harry had ever heard before and even in the text it was stated they were rare. He stopped reading for a second and instead turned to look at the moving painting on book. There, standing on its two back legs was a war-unicorn. They were -in contrast to normal unicorns- of a dark colour, black or a deep brown, as depicted on the book, and much taller than their white coloured brothers. They were strong and very difficult to tire, with a large silver horn and a much smaller one -barely one fifth of the larger horn's size- right beneath it. But despite the fact the unicorn was amazing on it own merit, that wasn't what had caught Harry's attention. No, what had caught his eye was this; on the side of the unicorn that was visible, right on the top of the war-unicorn's back leg a soft silvery glow could be seen. A silvery glow in the shape of an emblem.

"Sev!" Harry shouted as he picked up the book and ran to the stairs, climbing them as fast as he could. He was on the second floor in a matter of seconds and found himself face to face with a startled Severus Snape, his wand in hand and his eyes searching the area for Death Eaters.

"What happened Harry?" Severus asked when he was certain they weren't being assaulted. "Are you alright?" He crouched on his knees to take a better look at the boy, making sure he was uninjured.

"I'm fine Sev!" Harry reassured the now confused professor.

"Then why did you shout?" He asked realizing Harry didn't even appear scared.

"Look!" He said pointing to the open book. Severus regarded the boy with a half amused, half exasperated look.

"You scared me half way to death because of a book?" He asked with a smile only to have his eyes widen just as Harry's had a few moments ago when he noticed the emblem.

"See?" Harry asked excited. "What do you think this is?  
"One would say it's an emblem…" Severus muttered as his eyes flew over the words, trying to find an explanation. And he did, a few seconds later, but that didn't help with his surprise. "Listen to this." Harry nodded and waited as Severus cleared his throat.

" _War-unicorns, besides being the most trusted amongst the equine used for battles, appear to have the ability of forming a close connection with their riders, creating a bond akin to that of friendship. In cases where the wizard or witch has acquired an emblem it is quite often the case that the unicorn will produce a replica of said glyph on itself as a symbol of the bond created. No knowledge of how that is possible has been acquired by the time this book was written, but it is generally believed that the process is the result of some sort of a ritual."_  Severus stopped reading and looked at Harry with an eyebrow raised.

"Wow." Harry stated. "You think there might be a book on war-unicorns in here somewhere?" The boy asked, looking straight into Severus's eyes.

"There might be." He agreed. "Expect it to be pretty old like this one." Severus commended as he looked skeptically at the tome Harry had brought him. "Tell you what; why don't we go look at the dungeons and ask Minnie to appoint an elf to search for any books on war-unicorns?" The young professor offered. "It will take us forever if we try to search by ourselves and I can't summon a book without knowing its title."

"Can't you just summon it based on its context?" Harry asked after some consideration. Severus smirked at the question; he was definitely doing something right raising him.

"I could but this library is filled with books dating back to a thousand, maybe more, years ago. I even noticed some scrolls back there." Severus explained. "To my knowledge, war-unicorns were used in combat until early in the fifteenth century; can you imagine how many books in this library will mention them?"

"A lot?" The boy asked with a smile.

"A lot." Severus agreed chuckling. "It would be better to ask somebody who already knows where they are." Harry nodded and Severus summoned Minnie who in turn summoned an older elf -called Watt- and explained what they were looking for. He asked for any books found on war-unicorns to be sent at Harry's room while the books he had gathered himself to be left at his quarters. After thanking both elves the two wizards left the library talking vividly.

"War-unicorns are brilliant!" The green eyed boy exclaimed as they walked down the corridor. "How comes I've never heard of them before?"

"Well, since they're no longer used in battles they aren't bred in England anymore." He considered his answer for a while and then added. "Actually they aren't bred in Europe at all; there are some wild war-unicorns in central Europe, I believe, but the only place I've heard of them being bred is the Arabian Peninsula. I even heard some rumors about Morocco, but either way they're not exporting." Harry was listening with amazement.

"I would love to see one…" They boy stated dreamily. "And I would love to travel someday. I've never left England you know." He added wistfully. Severus stopped in his tracks and looked at the boy with wide eyes. His mind flashed back to a time when he was not much older than Harry, during the summer after his first year at Hogwarts.

_A black haired boy and a red haired girl with bright emerald eyes were sitting by a lake talking animatedly to each other._

" _After finishing school I would like to work at the Ministry." The girl said. "I know it's too soon but I've heard so much about their Charms division!"_

" _And the whole school knows how much you like charms!" The boy added with a smile._

" _What would you like to do after school Severus? Become an Auror or something?" The girl asked._

" _I don't know Lils." The boy answered looking at the lake absentmindedly. "I would like to travel someday. You know, I've never left the country."_

"Sev?" Harry asked looking at the potions master with a concerned expression. "Sev are you alright?"

"Yeah…" The young man trailed off and then looked at Harry with a smile. "Yes, I'm fine kid. You just reminded me of a boy who had the same dreams as you at your age." Harry looked at him surprised.

"Whom?"

"Me." Severus answered and looked at Harry's eyes earnestly. "I promise you will travel Harry. I'll take you see the world, I swear." He said solemnly, well knowing the burden Harry would have to bear in the future; he would make sure the boy would live his life to the fullest. Harry just stared at him blankly before hugging the life out of him.

"Thanks Dad." He said fighting off his tears.

"Don't mention it Harry." Severus said, feeling the now familiar warmth in his chest. "You've been thanking me an awful lot lately."

"With reason." Harry stated, making Severus chuckle once.

"And as for war-unicorns, well I can't promise you I will show you one, but I can teach you how to ride." Harry's head snapped upwards to look at Severus with amazement.

"You know how to ride?"

"My mother taught me before she died and I was deemed unwanted from her family." Severus said with a soft smile. "You know this castle has stables right?" He asked the boy whose eyes widened for the umpteenth time that day.

"With horses?" He asked and Severus chuckled.

"It's customary to have horses in your stables Harry."

"Well the Potter manor has stables but father said the last one to keep horses there was his grandfather." Harry stated and Severus noted he didn't call James "Dad" but stuck with the more formal term "Father". His heart leapt a little at the implication but he tried to ignore it.

"That's a waste of space." He stated and smiled. "Well there are horses in  _our_  stables and they are, of course at your disposal. We can start lessons anytime you want." Severus said smiling at the sparkle his statement created in the boy's eyes. "And I'd better see to that Quidditch pitch being repaired…" He trailed off as he started walking again, looking at Harry with the corner of his eyes.

"You have a Quidditch pitch?" The boy asked excited.

"Potter manor has one too." Severus reminded him with a smile.

"Yeah but I've never used it." Harry explained. "Father and Sirius taught Adrian how to fly this July but they never asked if I wanted to learn too." He blushed and looked at his feet while Severus cursed under his breath.

"Do you want to learn Harry?" He asked already knowing the answer.

"Sure." The boy stated, trying not to look excited.

"Then I'll teach you that too." Severus stated turning at a now smiling Harry. "It's time I started enjoying Quidditch again myself."

"You mean it?"

"Don't I always?" Severus asked rhetorically, assuming a mock superior air. Harry laughed and the black eyed man congratulated himself for lifting the boy's spirits. The conversation turned towards the castle and how the various repairs where proceeding. Severus explained he was renovating the western tower, which was the tallest of the keep, so they could use it for astronomy lessons and so on. They reached the dungeons soon enough and Severus led the way towards what he remembered was the potions lab. His smile widened at the sight and at Harry's exclamation of "Wow".

The lab was much larger than he had expected; not quite as large as the one at Hogwarts but then again this one wasn't supposed to fit twenty students and their cauldrons. They looked around for a while and Severus made a mental note of the ingredients he would need to buy so he could stock the now empty ingredient cabinets. After inspecting the room closely they went to observe the rest of the dungeons. They found an armory -to Harry's delight- and a vast empty room probably designed for training. Exactly what we needed, Severus thought. The castle apparently came equipped with its own holding cells and Harry's imagination once again led him to a time of battles and heroic deeds. The morning was spent in walking around the castle and its fields, including a visit at the stables where the house elf in charge -a shy female elf who introduced herself as Millie- showed them around and gave them the name of the eight horses currently residing there.

It was already early afternoon when the two wizards remembered they had to eat. Minnie decided, eying their thin bodies suspiciously, to feed them double rations than they usually ate. They decided no training was to take place that day and instead opted for a short trip to Diagon Alley for potions ingredients and a few items needed for Harry's upcoming astronomy lessons. Severus was trying to decide which telescope would fit Harry better as the boy absentmindedly looked over some charts that depicted various constellations when he bumped into an old man who seemed just as absorbed as himself.

"Forgive me sir, I didn't see you standing there." The boy said blushing profusely. The man smiled kindly and waved his hand dismissing the apology.

"No need for apologies young man. I didn't see you standing there either." He explained. Harry took that moment to observe the man closely; he was old, almost as old as Dumbledore or Merlin had looked and he had kind brown eyes and a short white beard. His equally white hair was long and he wore a pale green wizard's hat on his head that matched his long robes. The man's eyes twinkled as he noticed the boy observing him. "Tell me, are you interested in astronomy? It's very rare to see a boy your age in such a store."

"I'm actually here to buy a telescope sir." Harry said blushing again.

"So you  _are_  interested in astronomy!" The man exclaimed. Then he looked at Harry with worry. The boy couldn't be older than six, maybe seven years of age. "But are you here alone?"

"No, sir." Harry said with a smile. "I'm here with Sev." He said and pointed at Severus who was conversing over a telescope with the shop's owner. The man cocked his eyebrow at the introduction but let it slide.

"So you're interested in astronomy." He repeated. "But how old are you?"

"Seven sir." The boy stated, looking at the old man with curious green eyes. He didn't want to give out more information than necessary but the old man felt trustworthy.

"Seven and interested in more than Quidditch! Will you look at that!" He said good-naturedly.

"I'm interested in Quidditch too. Sev says I have a curiosity streak a mile wide." Harry explained with a smile, making the man laugh.

"Ah, curiosity! Troublesome at times but where would we be without it?" The man exclaimed. "And sadly very few possess creative curiosity anymore; it's good to meet a fellow spirit." Harry laughed lightly at the man's words. "But where are my manners?" He wondered out loud. "My name is Nicholas. And you would be?"

"I'm Harry, sir." The boy said and shook the old wizard's extended hand.

"It is nice to meet you Harry." The man stated with smiling eyes.

"Nicholas!" A woman's voice sounded from outside. Harry turned to look and his eyes met with an elderly woman that looked about the same age as the man. "What are you doing in that shop again? You have more charts than you'll ever need!"

"Ah! That would be my wife." Nicholas said conspiratorially. "I believe that's my cue to leave. It was a pleasure meeting you Harry." He said looking at the boy with a smile. "I have a feeling we shall meet again." And like that, he turned around and left a slightly confused Harry Potter looking at his retreating form before shrugging his shoulders and joining Severus at the registry.

"You're always in that shop, Nicholas!" The old woman commented with a fond smile, trying to look exasperated at her husband of many years.

"My dear Perenelle, I fear I'm too old to change my antics now." Nicholas said smiling.

"I know that look, Nicholas." His wife stated as she took in his pleased look. "What did you do this time?"

"I believe I made a very interesting acquaintance today my dear." He stated as they walked towards the Leaky Cauldron. "A very interesting acquaintance indeed!"

 


	11. November Rain

It was a surprisingly sunny day for November in the Highlands, one Harry Potter thought to himself as he skipped towards the dungeons of his guardian's castle early in the morning. The sun peeking through the windows did nothing to lessen the cold outside but it was a nice change from the endless grey that had surrounded the castle for over a week. The young boy walked effortlessly through the corridors of the keep that he had come to call home over the past three, almost four now, months.

Everything had gone as agreed during the summer; Harry spent three out of five working days of the week plus weekends at Severus's house and none was the wiser that that house no longer was at Spinner's End. Harry liked it better that way; things back at Potter manor had made a slight turn for the worse if anyone wanted his opinion on the subject.

With the more rigorous training Adrian had to undergo, Harry found himself spending less and less time in the presence of his parents. Once again, he wasn't mistreated or anything and he got letters from them every time it was required for them to stay away for longer than two days. He just couldn't help but feel excluded as he stood at the family table and heard stories of what Adrian had seen or how Sirius and his father had gotten a new exciting mission from the Ministry and he ended up finding out after it was over. True, they weren't  _supposed_  to discuss it before it was over, but he didn't miss the conspirartory glances between his father and Adrian that clearly stated his brother had known beforehand anyways.

And then there were the stories from Adrian's training; they were the worst of it all actually. It wasn't that they went on and on about his brother's training. It was that they spoke in half sentences, as if keeping a secret, as if Harry wasn't fit to know. He couldn't blame Adrian for that as his brother, who had noticed Harry's sometimes hurt expression, had solemnly promised he would teach him everything he knew the moment they started attending Hogwarts. That had brought a soft smile to the green eyed boy's face and had served to reinforce his decision to allow his brother to get all the training in the world.

Speaking of training, Harry thought, a very characteristic smirk -adopted from the very man he had set out to find- appearing on his face; that was going rather well. In addition to the first mark he had received on his emblem, a few days ago his magic had deemed him ready to receive the mark of an apprentice in the Dark Arts. Harry was shocked to say the least when Severus translated his newly acquired rune as he couldn't, for the life of him, remember ever practicing a single spell characterized as dark. The potions master had regarded his rapidly panicking honorary son with a blank expression before resolving into laughter; it took him a few minutes before he was somber enough to explain to Harry that his magic had no way of differentiating between the Dark Arts and Defense Against The Dark Arts, as that was a relatively modern term used to separate the dark spells authorized by the Ministry from the ones forbidden.

Harry smiled at the thought of the man he had come to call his Dad. He remembered fondly some of the happiest moments in the castle during their stay there; the surprise party he had thrown for Severus for their first month in the castle for example. Harry, admittedly acting quite sneakily, had made a point of getting all of the house elves to stay silent as he finally gathered all he needed for his surprise just three days before the actual date. He had asked Minnie to bake a cake and everything and used all his pocket money to buy Severus and himself two tickets for a game between the Hollyhead Harpies and the Tutshill Tornadoes that was on the day that marked one month of their stay. Severus had stood completely frozen in shock the moment he entered the living room that day; Harry largely attributed that to the huge banner writing "My Home Is My Castle!" that he had placed himself -as good practice for his levitation spellwork as any!- on the wall.

Then there was that one time, early in September, when Severus explained to him what that project of his was. Apparently all the talk of him and Harry being a family had peeked his interest, so he did some research and go figure; magic would never cease to surprise him! It had turned out that, back at that first day when Harry had called him Dad, their magic had acted on its own and performed a ritual that, as Severus explained, had fallen out of practice for almost a millennia.

The boy rolled his eyes at remembering Severus's reaction from then on; the potions master had deemed him a magnet of old magic of any kind with a very theatrical expression and went on -in a quite successful Shakespearian dramatization- to predict how he would end up an old wizard with a beard longer than both Dumbledore's and Merlin's combined, locked in his tower, studying endlessly over charts and books. It was the day Harry discovered how very difficult it was to stay cross at Severus Snape when he was going out of his way to depict exactly how Harry would look at the age of one hundred and fifty, even donning said beard to be more descriptive.

Back at the ritual however; turns out their magic had reacted and performed what was called a family bond specifically the, in Severus's words, _Unum Genus Vinculum_. It was a bond used during the time their castle was first built to bind a child under the protection of an adult, making said adult a third parent in magical terms, in case the family of the child was killed during a battle or siege. It wasn't legally binding or anything and thus didn't appear in the Ministry's books, but magic had acknowledged them as father and son and that was a secret both wizards treasured.

And now, Harry was on his way to find his honorary father who had once again skipped breakfast, lost in his studies. Severus, being the good man he didn't believe he was, had begun a new project after witnessing a scene at Potter manor almost a fortnight ago;

_Harry was getting ready to depart from his family's house one Thursday afternoon and was reading a book by the fire as he waited for Severus to floo over. The flames burned green and the boy peered at the clock over the fireplace; Severus was always in time but their appointment was in ten minutes and Harry knew for a fact he had a staff meeting in Hogwarts that afternoon. And truly, it wasn't Severus who came out the flames but a disheveled and tired Remus Lupin._

" _Hello Harry." The werewolf greeted the boy who swiftly put down the book he was holding and rose from the armchair to meet him._

" _Hey there, Moony." Harry greeted back observing the dark circles under the man's eyes. Remus was only twenty eight but looked older than his years, the first grey hair already making its appearance. He was looking especially tired that afternoon and Harry could guess why without the help of his astronomy studies; it was the full moon last night._

" _Is James home yet?" He asked as he sat down on the couch rubbing his eyes._

" _No, my parents and Adrian made a last moment stop to Diagon Alley; something they needed for tomorrow's training session but I have no idea what." Remus nodded and sighed tiredly, making the boy's heart constrict. He hated that Remus had to go through that torture every month; he was a great guy and he surely didn't deserve all that suffering. And thinking back on the story he heard of how he came to be a werewolf he felt like tracking that Fenrir character and teaching him a good lesson himself. Maybe he would do that one day._

" _I'll just wait then."_

" _Do you want me to get you something to drink?" The boy asked concerned._

" _Some water would be nice." The werewolf admitted._

" _Water would be nice but I was thinking of something stronger." Harry said with a smile, making Remus look up at him surprised. "Don't get me wrong Moony but you look like death." The man chuckled mirthlessly but nodded._

" _No offence taken." Harry smiled and called Gus, one of the two Potter family house elves and asked for a glass of firewhiskey and a bar of milk chocolate, making Remus chuckle appreciatively. "It's good to see somebody in the Potter household has grasped the importance of chocolate." The amber eyed man stated._

" _Remus, if I had learned one thing from you, that would be that everything feels better after a bar of chocolate!" And as if on queue, Gus reappeared with a pop and handed the tired man the required items. Remus sighed and sipped on his drink in silence as Harry sat quietly, giving him time to rest. A few minutes later the flames in the fireplace burned green once more and the black clad professor -Severus still wore black in sake of appearances at school- stepped out the flames. His eyes immediately fell on Harry before darting to the slumped form of Remus on the couch._

" _Good afternoon Harry, Lupin." He stated in a monotone voice, the façade of the stern potions master on while a third party was in the room. Remus rose to shake his hand, which Severus did without hesitation. From the three remaining Marauders -Peter Pettigrew was widely treated as dead- the potions master regarded only Remus with respect. Harry had been informed of the prank his father and Sirius had attempted to play on Severus while in school, surprisingly not from the intended victim but from the werewolf himself; Remus had been worried that Severus would treat Harry with prejudice because of the long living feud between him and his father and wanted him to know how it had all started. Harry had swiftly reassured him that prejudice was not an issue and had wisely refrained from revealing any knowledge of the feelings he always suspected Severus held for his mother._

" _Good afternoon Severus." Remus greeted the professor with a tired but polite smile. "You have come to pick Harry up I assume?"_

" _Yes." Severus answered laconically as Remus sat back down on the couch rubbing his tired eyes with a sigh, missing the concerned look that was etched on the black clad man's face. "Are you ready to go, Potter?" he asked instead of commenting._

" _Ready professor." Harry offered with a smirk that went unnoticed by the werewolf, carrying out the charade. They bid goodbye to the werewolf and flooed in Severus's office and from there to the castle._

" _Lupin looked awful." Severus commented as they stepped out in the large hall._

" _First day after the full moon." Harry reminded him. "Unless someone comes up with a more permanent solution than the Wolfsbane, he will look like that for three days each month. Maybe more." Severus had paused on his way to the kitchen -it was pointless to eat in the dinning room where the table was meant to seat more than forty people with ease- and Harry turned to find a determined expression plastered on his face. "Sev…" He started as he regarded the newly ignited fire in the young potions master's eyes._

" _You made an excellent point, Harry." He simply stated and left in a fluid motion of his black cape. Harry managed to see him climbing the -admittedly breathtaking- double staircase in the main hall, easily guessing he was heading for the library. There was no force in the world that could compete with a decided Severus Snape, Harry thought shrugging as he continued his way to the kitchen. Something told him he would have to take Severus's dinner to his study that night._

" _Good evening master Harry." Minnie greeted him as he entered the kitchen. "Hasn't master Severus arrived with yous, sir?" She asked concerned._

" _Oh he has." The boy answered absentmindedly. "He just needed to visit the library first."_

" _Is everything alright sir?" The house elf asked confused._

" _Yes, Minnie." Harry said with a smile. "But I'm afraid I've created a monster."_

And that was the reason why, once again, Harry found himself walking to the dungeons, reminding Severus he had to eat to survive. He knocked on the door to the potions lab twice.

"Come on in Harry." Sounded the voice of the potions master. Harry opened the door and smiled fondly at Severus who was brewing a standard Wolfsbane in a cauldron. "Good morning Harry." The older wizard stated distractedly.

"Good morning to you too Sev!" Came the amused greeting from the boy. "You need to shave." He stated as he noticed the stubble on Severus's face. "And eat breakfast while you're at it, before Minnie hunts you down and force feeds you." That seemed to break his concentration.

"I skipped breakfast again didn't I?" He asked rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"The most important meal of the day, as Minnie never fails to remind me." Harry stated laughing. Minnie had, during the past months, taken up personally the role of mother hen to both Severus and Harry to the two wizards' great amusement. Needless to say, they adored the elf to bits. "And we're supposed to ride up to the Quidditch pitch today to oversee how the restoration's going." Harry reminded him. It turned out that the last three or four generations of Princes had decided Quidditch was useless and had allowed the pitch to fall into decay. That and the fact that it was located almost three miles and a half away from the castle gave them the perfect excuse for not caring for its condition. It also gave Harry and Severus the equally perfect excuse to ride in order to get there; Severus had indeed kept his promise and, when the weather allowed them, the two wizards rode around the fields of the estate. The boy had come to enjoy those moments immensely and had discovered a natural talent for horse riding in the process.

"I'm supposed to test the spells they placed today right?" Severus asked trying to remember exactly what said spells were. Turns out, it wasn't just the field itself that needed tending to; there was a series of specific wards and spells required for a Quidditch pitch to be in perfect condition.

"Yep. And you'll be happy to know it's a lovely day out there; no cloud in sight whatsoever."

"That's something at least." Severus agreed. It was an hour later that found the two wizards riding towards the field, after Severus had been properly scolded for missing his breakfast by a miffed house elf and treated to a double ration, to Harry's great amusement.

"So at what hour did you wake up today?" Harry asked as they rode side by side, passing a lake that was part of the estate.

"A few minutes before sunrise I think." Severus admitted. "I had an inspiration, or thought I had an inspiration." He sighed exasperated. "It's all in the basic ingredients; there's something missing I'm sure. I wish I knew what."

"If anyone can find it Sev, that would be you." The boy assured him decisively.

"Thank you for the vote of confidence Harry." Severus said smiling. "But really I feel like the solution staring me in the eye and I just can't see it."

"You will; it took four years of intensive study to develop the original Wolfsbane, not to think about how long it took for the concept to be thought alone." Harry stated making Severus smirk.

"Someone has been studying potions I see."

"And someone has forgotten I'm an apprentice in potions, says I." Harry stated with a wide smile.

"Cheeky brat." Severus said fondly.

"What can I say?" Harry asked. "You must be raising me right!" He exclaimed and urged his horse faster, soon followed by a chuckling Severus. He had placed more than a dozen charms on that saddle to make sure Harry wouldn't fall down even if a troll tried to throw him off the horse with its club, but the boy didn't appear to need it. They reached the Quidditch field laughing and Harry observed carefully as Severus showed him how to test the wards. The spells and charms required where too advanced for him still, but it never hurt to learn the theory, as Severus reminded him. Checking for the wards of course, demanded looking towards the sky quite a lot. And looking towards the sky reminded Severus a very crucial detail about the weather in late autumn; it was -in addition to cold and cloudy- completely unpredictable.

"No cloud in the sky whatsoever, right?" He asked Harry amused.

"There wasn't one when I last checked." Harry stated sharing the same amusement. Both were dressed quite warmly for the occasion, Severus's surprising preference of military style overcoats having rubbed off on Harry. Still none of their outfits was waterproof and shielding charms couldn't completely protect them from the storm that was gathering ahead.

"Maybe it would be wise to head back." The potions master suggested, hurriedly completing his checking of the wards. Harry could only nod his agreement as he approached the horses. They both headed back a few minutes later but the clouds seemed to beat them to it.

"I believe it's time for those rainproof spells Sev." Harry proposed as the first thunder made its appearance overhead. Severus drew his wand in agreement and they stopped their horses so he could cast properly. "Sometimes I wonder if we'd be better off living in a sunnier place; a desert perhaps?" The boy asked joking but Severus didn't react. He just stood, seemingly petrified, his eyes wide in surprise, his hand extended as he had just begun to cast the spell needed. "Sev?" Harry asked confused. As if that was the sign the skies expected, a heavy curtain of rain fell over them, drenching them to the bone. Harry was beginning to worry. Severus hadn't moved a muscle, not showing the slightest reaction to the downpour. His mind however was racing.

Desert, Severus thought, his mind travelling back to the list of ingredients he was considering for improving the Wolfsbane. A desert, as in those large usually sand-filled wastelands where only few specimens of flora are native. And in one of those deserts, there was a specific plant, a tiny little flower, a very  _rare_  flower, that bloomed only during the summer when the heat was at its worst. It wasn't the complete solution to the Wolfsbane's problem, Severus was certain about that. But it was a hell of a start.

"Severus?" Harry's concerned voice pierced his thoughts as if coming from afar. "Severus!"

"I'm fine Harry. More than fine actually!" The potions master could feel the smile spreading on his face as he spoke. "I feel amazing and you know what?" He asked the bewildered boy.

"No?" Harry stated, looking at Severus as if he had gone crazy.

"Remember what I promised you last summer? That I would take you to see the world?" He asked and saw a small smile breaking on Harry's face despite his confusion.

"I remember."

"I believe I should make good on that promise, don't you think?" He asked and started riding back towards the castle. "Come on Harry! There's lot to do and I'll need your help!" Severus called turning his horse slightly to face the still frozen boy, completely disregarding the heavy rain. Harry commanded his own horse to follow, chuckling all the way back to the castle. This had blackmail material written all over it!

 


	12. Desert Sands

Severus was sitting in his study, looking over the final touches of their upcoming journey; and by their, of course, he meant his and Harry's. He smiled at the thought of the boy. He couldn't believe it was almost a year since Harry had practically moved in with him and together they had started living in his mother's family castle. It had easily been the best year of his life and a year of a lot of firsts. He had celebrated his birthday for the first time in his adult life; he had celebrated Christmas for the first time in his adult life too. He remembered the day fondly.

Harry had spent Christmas day at his house of course but he had come over on Boxing day and they had exchanged gifts amongst laughter and jokes. The castle was completely decorated for the occasion, fully equipped with a huge Christmas tree that Harry had cajoled the potions master into buying. It did look great, Severus gave him that. Harry had given Severus a camera, stating it was high time they took some family pictures and Severus had given the boy his first broomstick, a Nimbus 1500, the fastest model to date. He had bought one for himself too and, once spring came around, Harry had the opportunity to show yet another natural talent, in flying this time. Severus, who had slowly started rediscovering his affinity for the game, had easily declared the boy would be a gifted seeker.

And that wasn't the only area where Harry had proven being gifted; they had made great progress with his magical training too and now, barely eight years old, Harry had received his third apprenticing mark in Charms. Not that it surprised Severus; Lily had always been gifted in that area. He smiled softly at the progress he had made himself; he had finally reached a point in his life where he could think of his time with Lily fondly, the burning pain that used to be there having dissolved. He was healing.

With another smile, he rose from his chair and let his mind wander back to the journey at hand and his travelling companion; Harry had turned eight yesterday and thus had stayed at Potter manor where his family had returned for the customary celebration. The boy was loath to admit it but he had missed his brother; Severus merely smiled at the thought. Adrian wasn't half bad, he had to admit, but he couldn't understand how nobody had noticed just how much different from the supposed boy who lived Harry was. If his family had taken the time, they would have noticed his extremely fast development on any topic of magic that fell into his hands. Truth be old, the potions master conceded, they had both gone out of their way concealing the truth. Case and point, Severus thought with a smile as he caught his reflection in the mirror.

Last March they had hit a brick wall in Harry's training; the boy had started practicing magic that was taught in second year at Hogwarts and the more advanced spells seemed to take a lot out of him. The solution turned out to be much simpler than Severus had originally thought and was given, surprisingly, by Minnie when commending for what seemed to be the hundredth time how skinny the boy was. Harry's body simply wasn't strong enough to support the magic coming from his core. Severus had at first thought to increase the boy's rations and disallow him to leave the table until every last bite was gone, but that would do nothing for his strength; in the long term, he didn't want Harry to just gain weight. His body needed to get stronger.

That part of the problem was solved by one of his ancestors, Sir Edwin, when he was passing in front of his portrait in the north gallery. The old knight was quite certain the system they used to train children for fight was still usable; upon being asked what that system did, Sir Edwin had graced him with a "For sword fighting lessons of course! Young men these days!"

After a week's worth of research, Severus had discovered a statue in the dungeon, in the very same room they used for practicing magic. Apparently there was a spell that caused the statue of the knight to start moving and teach what it called "the fine art of swordsmanship". Said fine art included swinging a broadsword around the room and Severus had swiftly decided to participate actively in that part of Harry's training. Somewhere along the way he had discovered that, after spending his day teaching students bent on exploding his classroom, hitting things with a sword was an immensely satisfying outlet of his frustration.

Of course, all that sword training, horse riding and Quidditch practice had woken his appetite and soon, he found his body transforming; he had, for the first time in his life, gained muscle and admittedly looked healthier than ever. Problem was, he knew he was bound to capture the attention of one madam Pomfrey in the end and then would be forced to answer questions he'd rather leave unasked. It turned out that concealing and image shifting spells were a great investment; when at school or outside the castle he changed his appearance to what it had been at the beginning of the school year. He was half certain his students would have trouble recognizing him without his black cape and haggard appearance.

Harry completely disapproved of course and only gave in when Severus agreed in disguising the height the boy recently gained too. That, in combination with showing no sign of his knowledge to his family had seemed to fool even Dumbledore who never thought of looking past what he expected to see. The potions master had of course taken extreme caution with his spells, making them blend into his natural magical signature; but the fact remained that Albus simply never looked.

And now there he was, completely free of disguises, waiting for Harry to arrive so they could depart. The potions master smirked at the thought; he had always wanted to visit Morocco. It was a stroke of luck that had the very flower he was seeking to be in that very country. He had been searching all year and even had to take a couple of weekend trips to France -that Harry had enjoyed more than he had, if that was possible- in search for a map with the exact location he was seeking. He had the time pinned down to the second and all that was missing now was getting there.

He exited his study, after a quick glance at the clock, and started making his way towards the hall where Harry was due to floo at in fifteen minutes. He had made reservations at a wizards retreat near the location and had opted on getting there ten days early; for one, it would be better to find the location beforehand and not search at the last moment and secondly, he wanted Harry to see a bit of Morocco too. The boy had been extremely helpful with his research, staying with him during the long nights at the library, even if that meant sleeping on the couch while Severus worked. They both deserved the vacation, Severus concluded.

He reached the hall were the fireplace was lit, ready for Harry's arrival. Severus sat on the corner of the couch and mentally checked the items he needed to take with him. Satisfied he had everything he needed, he turned his attention to the flames. He didn't have to wait for long; the flames soon shone green and through the fireplace came an extremely excited Harry Potter.

"Can we leave already?" He asked hugging Severus, who hugged him back and lifted the concealing charm from his person, giving Harry back the four inches it hid.

"Nice to see you too Harry. I'm fine, thanks for asking." Severus stated neutrally, making the boy blush. "Excited much?"

"Just a little." Harry admitted sheepishly.

"And to answer your question we'll leave in an hour by portkey." Harry smiled expectedly.

"Did you get an approval by the Ministry?" It was no secret between them that Harry had wanted to travel by portkey for ages.

"Even  _asking_  for approval by the Ministry would require stating the names of those using the protkey and the reason of leaving the country." Severus explained. "Luckily I do know how to create a slightly illegal portkey that can take us to our destination without having to explain why I'm trying to smuggle a Potter out of the country without parental consent." The potions master explained with a down right self-satisfied smirk, sending Harry in a fit of laughter.

"I promise I won't complain about being smuggled out of the country, Sev." Harry promised, wiping the tears from his eyes as Severus gave him his wand. They had decided he'd better carry it with him in case of emergency and only that. The hour passed in small talk, Harry narrating how Adrian had finally admitted he needed glasses and his mother's surprise when it turned out that he didn't; thankfully that had been accounted as a result of inheriting Lily's eyes and thus no more questions were asked.

The Potter family, minus one, had left again for the rest of the summer, after a short visit from Ronald Weasley, the sixth son of Arthur Weasley, if Severus remembered correctly. Apparently, he and Adrian had met one day in the Ministry and became quick friends. Harry himself admitted enjoying the boy's company, even if he did have some sort of obsession with the Chudley Cannons. A lost cause, Severus agreed as the team hadn't seen a place other than last since the late nineteenth century.

The hour passed faster than expected and soon the two wizards found themselves holding their trunks in one hand and an old frying pan -the portkey- in the other.

"Three, two, one…" Severus counted backwards and Harry felt a strong nudge behind his navel, as if an invisible hand was pulling him backwards; his hands locked down on his trunk and the portkey as the world started spinning. When the sensation seemed to lessen, Harry prepared himself and sifted his weight backwards while extending one leg forward, a trick Severus had taught him so he wouldn't land on his face. He opened his eyes the moment he felt solid ground beneath his extended foot and looked around him in wonder; the first thing that got to him was the heat. Severus had warned him about it of course, but he never expected something of that magnitude. It was scorching and even the air was hot as he inhaled. Then it was the setting itself; he was standing on crackled golden-red earth that dissolved into sand in the distance when he looked back. And when he looked forward…

"Do you only stay in castles or something?" Harry asked the potions master amused. In front of him stood a Kasbah, a Moroccan citadel in perfect condition, the golden coloured walls standing proud on a granite cliff. A shallow river flowed between them and the settlement while palm trees and green desert bushes contrasted brightly with the red hues of the ground.

"What can I say?" He asked rhetorically. "Call me sentimental, but it reminded me of home."

"Okay, Mr. Sentimental." Harry stated and smiled. " _Now_  can we go?" Severus chuckled and lifted the two trunks in the air with a flick of his wand. They walked under the desert sun slowly, passing the wooden bridge in the river and continuing towards the Kasbah.

"What do you say we try and blend in with the locals a bit?" Severus asked winking at Harry. "There's no point in trying to follow the trail on the map with that sun." Harry regarded him confused.

"Sev, don't get this the wrong way, but we just arrived from Scotland. I can bet you every single person in this country is more tanned than my whole family has ever been put together. And the two of us? We're considered pale even back home. How do you suggest blending in?" The boy asked amused.

"You do make a good point Harry, but what I meant was maybe buying some local clothes, visit the wizards' bazaar in the nearby town, take some pictures, play tourists for a while." Severus explained smiling.

"Oh." Harry stated, his smile widening. "We could do that."

"Yes, we could." Severus agreed as they approached the entrance of the Kasbah. They entered through an amazingly high gate, fashioned in the one of a kind detailed woodwork found only in Morocco and into what appeared to be an inner garden. The building was rectangular in shape, with a shallow marble pool filled with clean water in the middle, the inner walls reaching upwards to a brass and clear crystal dome that gleamed in the sun. They approached the reception where a pretty, young woman, maybe twenty one or twenty-two years old, with dark hair and large grey eyes was handing the key to a couple in front of them.

"Enjoy your stay in our Kasbah!" She spoke with an accented voice and a polite smile. Harry's eyes gleamed mischievously as he noticed the girl's smile widening and reaching her eyes as she regarded Severus appreciatively. "Good morning sir!" She greeted him, her eyes blinking rapidly a couple of times, her voice deepening. Severus blinked once in shock, but shook it off quickly.

"Good morning." He started and the girl smiled even wider, her eyes fluttering at the sound on his voice. Harry did his best not to laugh, as Severus kept speaking. "We have a reservation under the name Black." He smiled at the name Harry had picked as their alias, after deciding the name Potter was easily recognizable even across the borders. Black was selected as it was common enough and was a lovely pun to the mutt who would most probably keel over and die if he ever found out Severus had used his name to sneak out of the country.

"Oh yes I see, father and son. And what a lovely boy you have!" She exclaimed looking at Harry. "He looks like you, if I may say so." The two wizards smirked looking at each other. "Severus is it?" She asked the potions master with yet another wave of fluttering eyelids.

"Yes, quite right." Severus offered, his large dark eyes wide. Harry tried to hold back his laughter; with his wide eyes and shy smile, Severus was giving the receptionist a full blown puppy-eye look. He appeared completely different than he ever did, for the first time looking younger than his age and the best thing was, Harry thought in glee, that we was doing it completely unintentionally. The effect on the girl was immediate; she sighed softly and assumed a dreamy look, the key forgotten in her hand. This was taking forever, Harry thought.

"Could I have the key miss?" Harry asked sweetly as he widened his eyes, mimicking Severus perfectly. The girl smiled at him too and gave him the key.

"What a sweet son you have, Severus." She said sighing once more, completely forgetting any formalities.

"Ah yes." The potions master mumbled as he looked at Harry confused for a second, before realizing exactly what had happened. That cheeky brat! "Thank you for your help miss…" he trailed off smiling at the girl who returned the smile tenfold.

"Asmae." She whispered.

"Asmae." Severus repeated her name causing her to blush.

"If you need anything just call the reception." She stated with a wink. "Are we to expect a Mrs. Black too?" She asked coyly.

"Nope!" Harry quipped before Severus could respond. "Just Dad and me, Miss Asmae." The girl smiled at Harry.

"What a lovely boy you are!" She stated. The man behind Severus and Harry cleared his throat politely. Harry turned around and noticed that a small line had formed behind them.

"We should better go to our room; thank you again, Asmae." Severus bid her goodbye.

"Don't mention it, Mr. Black. Your room is on the fourth floor, suite eight. A house elf will take care of your trunks; just leave them by the elevator." The receptionist explained with yet another smile. "Enjoy your stay!"

"Thank you, Miss Asmae." Harry added as they walked towards the elevator.

"What was that?" Severus asked cocking one eyebrow in surprise.

"Come on, Sev!" Harry exclaimed in mock reproach. "I'm eight and even  _I_  could see she fancies you!"

"What?" Severus asked in shock. "No she was just… Aren't you too young to know stuff like that anyway?"

"Sev, did you forget that I have spent a great time of my life near the original Mr. Black?" Harry said shaking his head as they entered the elevator. "Whether I wanted to or not, I picked up a couple of things."

"But did you have to go all sweet and innocent on the poor girl? She had half a mind to adopt you by the end, I'm sure." Severus complained, still unable to wrap his mind around the concept.

" _Me_? I was going all sweet and innocent?" Harry asked surprised. "And what about you with that lost puppy look and then being all charming and stuff." Severus's eyes widened this time in terror.

"What. Lost.  _Puppy_. Look?" He asked, pausing between each word.

"And you didn't even notice…" The boy said shaking his head as the elevator stopped at their floor. The doors opened to reveal a luxurious corridor, covered with a thick carpet. "Suite four, six… here we are!" The boy exclaimed pointing at the door.

"We're not done with that conversation you know! Lost puppy…" Severus grumbled under his breath, making Harry giggle. The door opened and they entered a room that took Harry's breath away. It was large with two king sized canopy beds, and was fashioned in the same rhythm as the main lobby. Linen hung from the ceiling and the view from the windows overlooked the river and the sand dunes in the distance.

"I love it!" Harry exclaimed and jumped on the bed excitedly. It took an hour to place all their clothes in the closet and have the dreaded puppy conversation -Severus filed the information away for further use, his Slytherin side emerging- before they left the room to look around the town. Severus explained how this town was once a muggle fortress that was eventually abandoned before wizards and witches of the area took residence and rebuilt it.

True to his word, he took Harry to the local bazaar, where they roamed around and ended up buying an astronomy chart for Harry and some potion ingredients that were rare back in England for shared use. By the end of the hour, Severus wore a soft grey, linen shirt that reached just above his knees with a pair of black linen pants, having wrapped a long red scarf loosely around his neck, as was the fashion amongst the wizard community of the town. Harry's shirt was a soft blue and his scarf white, but they both welcomed the lighter clothes and the cooler feeling the linen provided.

They ate in a local restaurant, Harry snapped pictures of the two of them and everything that moved, rented two horses for the period they would stay and then returned to the hotel to leave their purchases, shower and sleep. When the sun started falling to the west, they left the hotel once more, as discreetly as possible, and led their horses over the river before Severus unfolded the map. They made a quick assessment of their location -the parchment was after all more than four hundred years old, so accuracy wasn't its strong point- and rode southbound, parallel to the river. This was going to be the first of at least a fortnight worth of long nights, Severus realized as the evening star rose in the horizon. The search for the flower known simply as  _Eloḯsa_ had begun.

 


	13. Moonlet Discoveries

Six nights, Severus thought sullenly. It had been exactly six nights since they had started looking for the flower and he could feel they were getting closer every time. It wasn't that he was impatient, no; he would keep coming night after night for months on end if it was just up to him. Even Harry, at his young age, didn't complain on the nights he spent on horseback when he could be sleeping on a soft bed back at the Kasbah, fully understanding why finding the flower was important.

No, it was the time that was ticking against them that made their search all the more urgent.  _Eloḯsa_ , the flower they were after, only bloomed in the last summer month and even then, only when the moon was in the sky. Severus knew that only left them a window of opportunity for a few hours every night. And they still only had twenty nights in total before the elusive desert flower buried itself under the sands for another year. They were riding towards an assortment of rocky cliffs in the west, having left the river behind them after the second night; they should be getting close. If those were the cliffs depicted in the map, then the flowers should be somewhere amongst them. It truly wasn't that far from the town they were staying in; if they knew the road, Severus believed it would only require three hours of continuous riding to reach the cliffs. The problem was, this was the desert; and if you didn't know the road, you couldn't just ride in blindly, wizard or not.

So the routine had been the same every night; they rode with stops every fifteen minutes, they checked the surrounding area and compared it with the map, marked their progress and returned to the hotel just before the sunrise. The first night had been a shock; Severus had travelled quite a lot for his mastery in potions but his path had never led him to a desert and especially not at night. And while he knew the temperature dropped during nighttime, he hadn't expected such a great difference. Having learned their lesson the first time, they were now equipped with thick cloaks which they wore every night since.

Harry had joked they looked like desert bandits. Severus laughed at how close the green eyed wizard was to the truth; since  _Eloḯsa_  was a protected type of flora, as he explained to the boy, them taking it out of the country wasn't exactly legal. Thankfully, the pedals weren't used as they were but had to undergo processing and be turned into oil that could easily be smuggled out of the country. Harry had unexpectedly smirked at the prospect and something glowed in his eyes, a light that Severus simply called  _The Glint_. He had a feeling it was a look that would return to Harry's eyes in the future. The boy's only question after that had been whether there was any type of customs control when they left the country. Sure there was, the potions master had replied; if you flew by broom or used a legal portkey, you had to declare everything. Harry had just rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to the map, deciding an improved Wolfsbane potion was worth a bit of smuggling.

"Hey, Sev." The boy turned to the potions master smiling. Both of them had acquired a soft tan, something a few girls back at the hotel had commended, much to Severus' amusement. It had been many years since the last time he was enjoying drawing some attention and the first time that attention had been solely female. Harry made fun of him at the beginning until a blond girl about his age had grabbed him by the arm and introduced him to her parents as her boyfriend. The terrified boy was saved by Severus and had sulked for the whole day, adding to the potions master's entertainment.

"Yes Harry?" Severus asked, their voices the only sounds that broke the silence except for the whooshing of the wind over the sand dunes.

"Maybe I should have asked before, but why is this flower so special?" Harry inquired. "I know it's supposed to stabilize the Wolfsbane and keep its effects from dissolving, but why that flower especially? And what kind of a name is _Eloḯsa_  anyway? It's not local, that's for sure."

"It's a bit of a sad story, should would like to hear it." Severus warned the boy.

"Do you have better plans for tonight?" Harry asked amused as he brought his horse closer to Severus's so they wouldn't have to speak that loud. After getting used to the calm of the desert, any type of excess sound was too much.

"Cheeky brat." Severus muttered, noting he used the term more and more while they were abroad; it was nice to see Harry acting like the young boy he was for once and not continuously carrying the burden of being the boy who lived in secret and his brother's hidden protector. Sure, the boy tried not to show it, but sometimes it was as clear as day in his eyes.

"Will I get the story tonight or you'll play Scheherazade and tell me tomorrow night instead?" Harry asked cocking his eyebrow. The movement reminded Severus himself too much to keep the good-humored banter going. For too long.

"I will tell you if you remind why did I ever give you any works of literature on the first place."

"Because, and I quote you here, a well rounded education is always better than mindless training." Harry quipped.

"I was right too." Severus said nodding once, making Harry laugh. "The story of the flower goes like this; back at the late fourteenth century, the German Ministry of Magic sent a search team in what today is the country of Morocco; they were ordered to find help for a wizard war that had started in middle Europe. And by help I don't mean reinforcements or new forms of magic, no. The main cause of trouble at the time was poison; a new type of poison had been created for the battlefield and had the potency to kill massively; it was charmed into the water and the food and killed indiscriminately. The search party was sent here after a small plant that was famed for its magical ability by the locals."

"The  _Eloḯsa_?" Harry asked intrigued.

"Exactly." Severus confirmed. "Only that the flower was unnamed back then. The one that bore the nameEloḯsa at the time was the twelve year old daughter of the party's leader. He mother had died of the poison earlier that year and her father, a famous for his magical prowess wizard of the time, had volunteered to lead the expedition. He had taken his only daughter with him, not having any surviving relatives to leave her with. They lived in this desert for over a month and remember, back then the town we're staying at was abandoned still."

"So what happened?"

"Allegedly, Eloḯsa was walking around one night when a soft blue light coming amongst a pile of rocks caught her attention; she moved near and, to her great surprise, the light turned out to be emanating from a bunch of small, bell-like flowers, that seemed to reflect the light of the moon. Wanting to share her discovery, she ran back to the camp where her father was still asleep. She did however find some of his men who, exhausted from the long wait, jumped at the opportunity to find the rare flower and return to their families. What none of them noticed was the moon."

"The moon?" Harry asked completely absorbed.

"Yes the moon.  _Eloḯsa_  only blooms under the moonlight Harry. Of course, none of the members of the group -and certainly not a little twelve year old girl- had any knowledge of that fact. It was as you understand only natural to pay no heed to the lunar eclipse that was set for that night." Harry's eyes were wide as he hung from Severus's lips.

"And?"

"The girl did lead them where she had seen the flowers but without the moonlight, the plant had retreated back into the sand. In a burst of rage, one of the men drew his wand and pointed it at the girl; the rest of the men jumped at her rescue but a stray curse hit her in the end. It is said that her father, who was awoken by the shouts, found the spot only moments after the fatal curse had hit the girl." Severus shrugged as he continued. "As you understand, the moon soon came out again and the flowers resurfaced."

"And they took them back to Europe?"

"They did; as it turned out, the flowers themselves had no healing quality. What they did was help stabilize the effect of the potion in which they were added. One drop of the oil produced from the petals of the plant is said to prolong the effect for large amounts of time; nobody ever truly measured. The point of the story however is that the flower was proven to be completely useless for the healing poison they needed. The antidote was eventually created and the flower simply passed into history as  _Eloḯsa_. Nobody knows what happened to the girl's father. The flowers were considered a myth, until a French botanologist stumbled over them by accident three centuries ago; he catalogued the flowers and brought a small specimen back. It's his map we're following." Severus explained.

"But if this flower's abilities are so powerful," Harry stated confused. "Why isn't it used for more potions? It should be famous."

"Think about it, Harry." Severus said smiling softly at the boy's furrowed brow. Eventually, the green eyed wizard sighed as he reached a conclusion.

"Because nobody really means for potions to be permanent; they're supposed to act and then dissolve." The boy said, making Severus nod with no little amount of pride.

"If we were at school I would award you fifty points for that, Harry." The potions master assured him. "That's something wizards fail to understand about potions; they are highly dangerous if they remain inside the body for more than needed; many of the ingredients are poisonous by nature and those that are not still aren't supposed to last forever. Take the Skelegrow potion for example; because of the time it takes to act, none of its ingredients is poisonous. But can you imagine what would happen if it never stopped working?"

"The patients' bones would keep growing?" Harry asked making a grimace, gripping the reigns of his horse tighter.

"Exactly. The potion would have to do  _something_  and when it found no bones to re-grow, it would work on the existing ones. It's actually one of the problems when overdosing with said potion." Severus elaborated.

"But what about the Wolfsbane? Don't we want its effect to be permanent?" Harry asked.

"Do we?" Severus asked, wanting Harry to work this out on his own.

"I get it." The boy said after some minutes of thought. "We want the effect it has every full moon to be permanent. But the Wolfsbane  _does_ contain poisonous ingredients so it can't be active all the time."

"Once again, points to whatever House you'll be chosen for." Severus said smiling. "If I just wanted an ingredient that kept the effect of the potion going on forever, I could possibly recreate the effect in my lab back at home, thus this whole excursion would have been pointless. It's a different reason that, in addition to its ability to sustain the effects of a potion, makes this flower so special." The potions' master waited patiently for Harry to catch on. The boy didn't disappoint.

"It's the reaction it has under moonlight. If you can find a way to reproduce the flower's original reaction to the moonlight in a potion, then you will have a Wolfsbane that is only activated when the werewolf is affected by the moon, making only the desired effect permanent." Harry concluded. "That's brilliant!"  
"Well thank you, Harry." Severus said with a smile as their horses reached the cliffs. "Of course that will require a lot of research and quite possibly a long list of ingredients to eventually produce the desired effect; but it's a start." They rode for a while in silence.

"You were right though." The boy admitted, looking at the moon.

"I was right about what?"

"It was a sad story." Harry said with a soft smile.

"I did warn you." Severus retorted pulling an insulted -and much exaggerated- face. Harry laughed at his antics.

"You did; it was interesting though. I wonder…" Harry said and trailed off looking in the distance.

"You wonder?" Severus prompted the boy.

"Forget that." Harry said looking mesmerized ahead, his voice that of a person in daze. "Right now I wonder if the story affected me too much or if there is truly a blue glow coming from the rocks over there." The boy stated and pointed towards some rocks in the distance. Severus's head snapped at the direction Harry had pointed out so fast he felt dizzy. It didn't matter though; Harry's seeker talent had caught on a very different glow than that of the golden snitch this time.

"Harry?" The potions master turned to the boy solemnly.

"Yes, Sev?" The black eyed professor's answering grin was all the answer Harry needed.

"Race you to the flowers!" Severus exclaimed and urged his horse forward, Harry immediately following suit with a laugh. They reached the glowing flowers within minutes and were rewarded with the sight they had been hoping to see; more than they hoped really.

"A few flowers between some rocks?" Harry asked with a face-splitting smile. A small valley had appeared before their eyes, previously hidden from the sharp rocks. And in that valley, thousands of glistering flowers promised hope under the moonlight.

"Maybe the story erred a little." Severus admitted and dismounted his horse in one fluid movement, helping Harry do the same. They tied the reigns on some rocks and swooped into action, each holding a small sickle whose blade was made by the purest silver. Harry cut the delicate flowers right above the two large leaves near the ground, as Severus had instructed him so they could grow back next year, and placed the flower with the stem in a soft linen bag he had crossed over his back. It was a slow process and every flower produced barely enough amount of oil to be considered a drop.

"To tell you the truth Sev," The boy began as he continued cutting carefully, making sure he didn't step on the plants he had already harvested "I believed it would take us the whole month to find out where the flowers were." Harry admitted with a smile that was met with a mock austere glare by the potions master.

"It's good to see you have faith in my navigation skills, Harry." Severus commended feigning hurt.

"But it's true; remember that one time when you were lost in the forest back home?" Harry asked laughing, reminding Severus of an event that had occurred last May. "If the horses hadn't known the way back we would be lost! In the fields of our own home, can you imagine?" Severus smiled at the "our home" reference.

"What you seem to forget is that you were right there with me and equally lost." Severus offered chuckling.

"And you seem to forget that you're the adult in this family; did you expect a seven year old to lead you back home?" Harry asked seriously, pointing his sickle at Severus. "I think not!' Severus just rolled his eyes and continued working, too happily concentrated on the "family" part of Harry's remark to retort. They would have to return again the next night and maybe the night after that, but they would have all the  _Eloḯsa_ flowers they could need.

It must have been twenty minutes later when something caught Severus' attention. The horses seemed restless all of a sudden. He looked up in the sky and towards the desert but the sky was clear and the wind was mild; there was no single indication of a sandstorm in the horizon and, even if that was the case, they would be pretty much protected in the cliffs. That natural protection and a handful of protective charms would be all they needed really. The horses however still seemed restless and tried to break free from their binds. Harry turned to face the now neighing horses and put his sickle and bag down to approach them.

"Easy, boys." He said calmly, petting the animals softly. "Sev, any idea why they're worried?" The horses didn't seem to relax no matter what.

"No, and the weather seems… Harry behind you!" Severus exclaimed he heart stopping in his chest. On the rocks behind Harry stood a large snake ready to pounce on the boy. Severus remained frozen; the slightest move could cause the snake to strike and nobody could draw a wand faster than an attacking snake.

The snake regarded Harry who in turn looked at it straight in the beads it had for eyes; it was a long snake, of brown colour and, as most of the snakes in Africa, apparently poisonous. Harry didn't even dare to blink. The snake seemed to make its decision and drew its head farther back, ready to strike.

" _Stay away from my eggs!"_ Harry's eyes widened further at the whistling voice. Had the snake just talked to him? Never taking his eyes from the ready to strike snake, he moved his lips slowly. What did he have to lose anyway?

" _Hello?"_  He asked softly. The snake snapped his fangs closed in a swift movement.

" _You're a speaker, human?"_ The snake asked. Harry, half considering he had already been bitten and currently suffering the side effects of the poison, was somehow certain the snake was a female.

" _I guess."_  He answered regarding the snake with some fear, now mixed with awe.

" _Why are you threatening my eggs then?"_ The snake asked lowering her head ever so slightly.

" _I am not."_  Harry defended himself.  _"My Dad and I are just here for the flowers. We hadn't realized there was a nest here."_

" _So you're not here for my eggs?"_  The snake persisted seeming however less agitated now.

" _I swear we will do nothing to endanger your eggs."_  Harry stated solemnly.  _"If you show me where your nest is, I promise we won't even draw close."_

" _It's over there, behind those rocks."_  The snake said pointing at a pile of rocks away from the flowers.

" _We're only here for the flowers; we won't go near your nest."_  Harry repeated.

" _You seem honest speaker. And you are little older than a nestling yourself. If you promise to keep away from my nest, you can stay."_  The snake agreed.

" _We might need to come back again the next few nights."_  Harry warned her.  _"The flowers only come out under the moonlight."_

" _I know, young speaker."_  The snake agreed.  _"Stay away from my nest and gather all the flowers you want."_

" _I promise we will."_

" _Good then."_ The snaked conceded and, just like that, turned her head and slithered away. Harry let out an audible sigh of relief and turned to look at Severus. Without Harry's knowledge, the potions master hadn't been able to remove his eyes from the boy while he conversed with the snake. After the initial shock faded and when he was assured that the snake wouldn't attack, his mind started working faster than a galloping unicorn, making the connection. Harry was talking to the snake, hissing and nodding, understanding exactly what it was saying. Harry was talking in Parseltongue. Harry was a Parselmouth.

"Sev?" The green eyed boy asked in fear. "Did I just talk to that snake?" A small grin spread on the potions master face.

"You know what, kid?" He asked as the grin turned into a full blown smile. "I think you just did."

 


	14. Proper Introductions

"I'm still not so sure about that." Harry stated over his green mint tea. They had ended up leaving the valley not long after the snake incident the night before; and 'not long after' of course meant they were gone the moment they had grabbed the linen sacks with the flowers and reached the horses. Severus had casted a tracing spell so they could find the valley easier next time just before ridding away.

The three hour ride back had been almost silent as Harry led his horse looking blankly ahead, following the path he had memorized over their search for the flowers. The potions master could tell his newfound ability had unnerved him and it was no wonder, what with all the stories about Parselmouths being evil. He had tried speaking to him a couple of times but he stood motionless as if he hadn't heard his name being called. Severus had simply sighed and waited patiently until they had arrived at the Kasbah.

The room was just as they had left it and he quickly placed the flowers in one corner before turning to face Harry; the flowers could wait. He had finally gotten through to the boy he had come to think as his son only to realize Harry wasn't unnerved; he was  _terrified_. And it hadn't taken him long to uncover that the core of his fear didn't reside on the ability itself. Harry had known Voldemort was a Parselmouth -probably from a conversation he had caught from the Potters or Dumbledore since Severus had never mentioned that detail- and had developed the irrational fear that his ability made him similar to the Dark Lord somehow. His fear had only intensified when, while putting on his pajamas, he had noticed three new runes had appeared on his emblem; only this time the deep green symbols had appeared on one of the lines of the emblem and not around it. Harry had paled and stood shell-shocked for twenty minutes when Severus translated them as 'Parselmouth' before the potions master managed to make him talk.

Severus had stood frozen over the way Harry had chosen to regard his new ability and had, as decisively as he could, assured him he had nothing of that sort to fear from Perseltongue. He had explained how it was only an ability, a rare one at that, and he should make the best out of it. The boy had burst to tears then, silent and shaking, and had asked Severus if he hated him for being a Parselmouth. After some gentle probing he had uncovered his fears were rooted deep, their source being a conversation Aidan had had once with James; the older Potter had -probably joking to his defense- told Adrian that he would never forgive him if he showcased such a 'dark' ability.

Severus had felt like screaming; as gifted as Harry was, he was only eight and had been even younger when he had heard James's threat. It hadn't been easy to reassure him that hatred was completely opposite for how he felt for him. Harry had finally fallen asleep a little after dawn and not before Severus had made a list of a number of Parselmouths that had been a far cry from evil. He actually believed he had won the boy over at the mention of Merlin -the runes had been there when he had seen the great warlock's emblem after all- but had continued nonetheless.

Parseltongue was still the topic of their conversation the next morning over breakfast. They were seated in a table close to the window that Harry had chosen upon realizing that, if one looked intently, would be able to just make out the shapes of the rocky cliffs in the distance where they had found the  _Eloḯsa_  flowers.

"What's not to be sure about, Harry?" Severus asked rolling his eyes, sipping on his own tea; the sugar they added to that thing could kill you, he thought, but neither he nor Harry could help having a sweet tooth. "Parseltongue is an ability that can be very useful in tough spots as we found out last night." The potions master tried to repress a shiver caused from thinking just what would have happened had Harry not proven out to be a Parselmouth.

"That is true." Harry conceded with a sigh as he took a small gulp of his tea. "The sugar in that thing!" He muttered regarding his tea with a smile, making Severus burst out laughing.

"Look Harry, there's nothing to worry about; Parseltongue is just another language. Weird, I'll give you that, but a language none the less." Severus reminded the boy after sobering up. "If it makes you feel better, we'll do some research once we get back home." Harry smiled openly at that.

"We could do that, I suppose."

"Good." Severus agreed with a smirk. "And now we can put that matter to rest and enjoy our breakfast; the stubbornness you demonstrate sometimes is unbearable, kid."

"Makes you wonder from whom I picked up that trait." Harry responded with a smirk of his own. Severus simply chuckled once in acknowledgment.

The rest of their stay in Morocco went by in a much more relaxing manner now that they had located the flowers. They did return for the next three nights, not running into that snake again much to Harry's relief, until Severus deemed they had enough flowers to last them for a decade.

They stayed in the Kasbah for another week, just as long as it took them to finish the process of turning the petals into a clear, light blue, luminous oil which Severus packed carefully -with a dozen of protective and cushioning charms- in his trunk. Since they had a couple more weeks of vacation time they decided to continue their journey towards the sea. The day of their departure from the hotel produced probably one of the funniest memories of Harry's life, one at which he would look back and laugh for years to come. They had packed their trunks and were just about to leave the room when there was a soft knock on the door.

"Are we expecting someone?" Harry asked confused.

"No." Severus replied in the same startled way. "Did you order room service?" He asked back and went to open the door, his hand reaching for his wand, the moment Harry shook his head negatively. Severus opened the door and stepped back, ready to hex any possible threat to oblivion, only to be met with the blushing figure of…

"Asmae?" Severus asked in shock, quickly withdrawing his hand from his wand holster. Harry smirked, sitting comfortably on the bed from where he could observe the scene about to unfold with ease. Asmae and a couple of her friends working at the hotel had gone out of their way to make sure they had everything they wanted. Harry had taken full advantage of the fact and had assumed his most innocent look to ask -and receive- fresh chocolate croissants every morning. Severus had told him it wasn't kind of him and he should stop asking for them immediately; Harry didn't heed his words, mostly because the potions master was at the time munching on a croissant himself.

"Good morning, Mr. Black." Asmae greeted him with a smile. "I noticed you were checking out of our hotel today and stopped by to see if you would need any help." Severus resisted rolling his eyes at the woman; he deeply doubted the receptionists of the hotel were supposed to help their customers pack.

"We're ready to go, Miss Asmae." Harry offered with a wide smile.

"Yes, as my son said, we've packed already." Severus agreed. "Thank you for your consideration." He smiled politely and bowed ever so slightly.

"Then I hope you enjoyed your stay in our hotel." She said smiling wider.

"Yes we did; everything was perfect." The potions master stated and looked at the woman expectedly; what did she say she wanted again? When she didn't make a move to leave he decided to speak. "So, if that would be all?" His voice trailed off as he expected her to go.

"Just one last thing." She said, her smile turning into a grin. Severus blanched slightly. Harry whished he had some pop-corn. "Severus?"

"Yes?" He asked regarding her with slight fear. He was about to ask her what exactly was that she wanted from his life when she burst into movement; she grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulled him downwards and kissed him with all she had. Severus's brain functions froze; whatever he had expected, well, that wasn't it. Once he managed to restart his brain after the shock, he discovered, to his great surprise, that he was kissing her back. Finally, Asmae stepped away and looked at the stunned potions master with dilated eyes and a flushed face.

"O…Owl me." She stuttered with a weak voice before smiling brightly and leaving the room, winking over her shoulder. "It's always the quiet ones… " She murmured as she reached the elevator with a face-splitting smile. Back at the suite, Severus closed the door and turned to Harry with a confused expression on his face.

"What was that?" He asked, sounding completely lost. Later he would realize he hadn't felt that pang of guilt and disappointment he would have gotten in the past when thinking the girl he was kissing wasn't Lily.

"That went well." Harry said blankly before collapsing on the bed, shaking with laughter. Severus looked at him as if he had gone crazy before giving up himself and smiling. His smile soon turned into chuckling and chuckling turned into laughing and before he knew it he was trying to catch his breath.

"That  _did_  go well, if I may say so myself." The potions master commented between gasps. From all the things that could happen…

"So are we leaving?" Harry asked, his eyes gleaming.

"Yes." Severus asked wiping his eyes. "Why wouldn't we?"

"I thought that maybe you and Asmae would like to spend some time together." Harry said, looking more innocent than Severus thought was possible.

"That's it, kid! You're forbidden to mention anything of the sort about girls until you're thirteen  _and_  you're never staying in the same room with that mutt again." Damn that Sirius Black and the influence he had on his poor, innocent Harry! Harry's eyes widened again and he added a pout for a good measure. Severus turned away and levitated the trunks so that they could go, with a single thought in his mind; must not look Harry in the eyes. Must not look Harry in the eyes…

They left the hotel, Severus putting all the avoiding techniques he had developed during the war in use, and apparated away. They spent a few days in Marrakech visiting its famous wizard bazaars - _souqs_  Severus had said was their proper name- before heading north to Fes and even northern up to Tangier. It was there where Severus realized Harry had never swam in the sea before so he made it his goal to visit as many beaches as they could in the week they had left. And they did, Harry finally putting the swimming skills he had acquired from swimming in the lake back home to good use.

They had decided to spend their last night in Morocco in Tangier again, seated at the porch of their hotel room, looking over the see. Harry closed his eyes for a moment thinking back at his first journey out of England. It had been more than he had hoped for really. He opened his eyes again to peer over the see, to the faint lights from the European coastline; it had been a very clear day after a surprising rainfall and Gibraltar had been visible throughout the day.

"We should go there sometime." Harry stated sipping from yet another cup of tea. He couldn't even recall how much of the hot beverage he had consumed but he didn't complain.

"Hmm? There? Where exactly?" Severus asked startled; he had been doing some thinking back himself, specifically their two day excursion to the Atlas mountains. He still couldn't believe how much fun he had had; it seemed to have been years -actually it  _had_  been years- since he had been able to be himself in front of people who weren't Harry as he had during the past month. But it had happened and he had the pictures to prove it; Harry was actually planning to arrange them into albums once they got back home. That had put a smile on his face; Harry didn't know, but that would be his first family album ever.

"You know across the Gibraltar Strait? I would like to see Gibraltar." Severus nodded with a smirk.

"It can be arranged." In his mind he was already making plans for a weekend excursion somewhere down the line. "Anyway, you should better be prepared; I have not the faintest clue about what ingredient I might need next for the Wolfsbane. Or were we'll have to go to get it for that matter." The potions master winked conspiratorially as he spoke. Harry laughed.

"Well, I'm hoping for India. Or Norway." Harry offered with a smile. "Anywhere in Scandinavia really."

"Who knows maybe we'll end up in the Arabian peninsula next." Severus offered, they had looked around for war-unicorn sightings in Morocco but rumors seemed to have been just that; rumors. And Harry really wanted to see a war-unicorn up close, even if he didn't press the matter. He never would, it was in his character, but Severus could tell.

"We might." Harry answered with a bright smile and raised his glass in a toast. "To our first vacation abroad!" Severus laughed and clicked his glass with Harry's.

"And to the ones to come." He added as the boy nodded vigorously. The next morning was bitter-sweet. Both wizards had missed the castle they called home but returning meant having to hide again. It was for the best though, Harry decided as he made sure he hadn't left anything behind; he had, after all, just spent an amazing moth travelling.

"All packed?" Severus asked as similar thoughts played in his mind too. It wasn't going to be easy, turning himself back into the distant and cold-hearted man that had been his façade for so long, he imagined.

"All packed." Harry agreed. "Ready to go home!" Severus couldn't resist smiling at that. He levitated his trunk and looked expectedly at Harry; the boy had asked to be taught the spell and Severus had complied. Harry pulled out his wand and said the incantation out loud, causing the trunk to lift steadily from the floor, the spell executed perfectly.

"Well done, Harry!" Severus praised the green eyed wizard as they both walked out their room and checked out from the hotel. The apparated to an empty field outside of the city where Severus pointed at a rock with his wand to create the portkey they would use. " _Portus!_ " They both held onto the rock and in a few seconds Harry felt the now familiar pull as the portkey activated. When he opened his eyes he was back at the castle. After a month away, the boy was surprised by the happiness that gripped him as he stepped foot inside the halls. He had been more homesick than he had thought.

"Master Severus, Master Harry!" The small form of Minnie greeted them, the house elf bristling with excitement. "Yous have returned sirs!" She exclaimed and, before Harry could help himself, he had launched forward and hugged her.

"Missed you, Minnie!" He said and let her go, startled to see the tears brimming in her eyes. Severus smiled fondly at the scene.

"We have missed you." He stated in agreement. "Without you, who's supposed to yell at us if we skip any meals?" He joked as the house elf observed them with an appraising eye.

"You have gained some colour sirs." She stated happily. "And master Harry has grown again!"

"I have?" Harry asked confused.

"You have, I think." Severus stated walking next to the boy. Harry definitely had grown since they had left. Must be the sun and the open air, Severus figured. After a nice breakfast and a few hours of rest, Severus decided to train with his sword a bit, something he had neglected while on vacation. He wanted to start working on the Wolfsbane as well, but he had to stop by at Diagon Alley first; he would need to get a pure silver cauldron for the potion and there was only one place that he knew of where such standards would be guaranteed. He pushed the door to the training area open only to realize he wasn't alone. "We had the same idea, I see."

"Oh, hi Dad!" Harry offered startled as he balanced his sword. Harry used a much smaller sword than Severus did but it was heavy nonetheless and the boy had already worked a sweat. The potions master had made sure all the swords in the room had been coated with a blunting charm of course, the very moment they had decided to start training. "I figured I had some catching up to do." The boy admitted as Severus nodded.

"We both do." They fell into training then, Severus casting the spell needed to activate the statue that served as their instructor after they had warmed up a bit. Two hours later and their granite tutor had deemed they could stop for the day. Severus had the distinct thought that they were getting better but it was hard to be sure with so many of his muscles sore. Well at least now I  _have_  muscles to be sore, he thought before they parted ways for their respective rooms and, after a quick shower, met at the kitchen for lunch.

"I was thinking I should spend some time at the western tower tonight." Harry said as they had dessert. Minnie really missed us, Harry thought, munching on the chocolate cake the house elves usually prepared for Christmas. "You know, put the new charts I bought to use."

"Fine by me if you feel up to it." Severus agreed smirking slightly. "Just don't fall asleep by the telescope again." He warned the boy good-naturedly before getting another bite from his cake; they should have it more often he decided. If Lupin had ever been right about one thing that would be it; chocolate  _did_  make everything better. Then again, Lupin was usually right about many things, Severus conceded, thinking of the one member of James Potter's group of friends he found tolerable. And speaking of Lupin… "I'll need to visit Diagon Alley tomorrow morning for the cauldron I've been telling you about." Severus stated, gaining Harry's attention immediately.

"From that specialized store? Milles & Trafford's right?" The boy asked, thinking back when he had first heard the name. It was the last night in the valley when Severus explained that high quality Wolfsbane was solely prepared in cauldrons of the purest silver. It was one of the reasons, according to -an admittedly very irate when explaining- Severus, why so many poorly produced Wolfsbane potions where out there on the market; they were barely effective but cheaper to produce.

"That's the one." Severus nodded. "They're the only ones I can trust for a solid silver cauldron." They ate the rest of their dessert -also known as half the chocolate cake- making small talk about their vacation, developing magic pictures, astronomy and the prospect of learning the recipe for the chocolate fudge cake they were eating. Harry did go to the western tower that night and would have fallen asleep too if he hadn't reminded himself of the trip to Diagon Alley due the next morning. He returned to his room and did his best not to fall asleep in his clothes, his body still getting used to the cooler temperature of Scotland.

The next morning found the two wizards occupying the castle in the kitchen eating the remaining chocolate cake, deeming it a great waste to let it undisturbed. After a scolding from Minnie -yous sirs should eat more than chocolate for breakfast!- they apologized profusely and decided to proceed with their trip to Diagon Alley, properly chastised and without mentioning their intention to visit Florian Fortesque's while there.

For the first time in a month they used glamour spells to conceal their appearance, Severus deciding Harry should appear a couple of inches taller than he had when they left, which was quite a loss from the total of eight inches he had gained since they had first started using the concealment spells. And certainly, neither of them was overjoyed with having to cover the tan they had acquired from their time in Morocco but sacrifices had to be made.

Diagon Alley was filled with families getting ready for the new school year -it was the thirtieth of August after all- and Harry had a blast from all the students cowering once catching sight of Severus. It must be the cloak, he decided and followed closely, doing his best to look demure and frightened himself. Appearances could definitely be deceiving, the green eyed boy thought as he compared the image Severus was projecting and his real self; he idly wondered what the reactions of these now frightful students would be had they witnessed the feared potions master as he truly was. The girls would get a kick out of it, he was sure.

They approached Gringotts and took a turn left where the road split; at the right side of the road where a few more shops, including Ollivander's and then Diagon Alley dissolved into Knockturn Alley. On the left side however, began a district of more specialized shops and -further down- of the buildings housing magical businesses such as Daily Prophet and the main offices of Nimbus Racing Broom Co. the company responsible for the Nimbus series.

The area was much less crowded and the average customers' age climbed from somewhere around fourteen to fifty or sixty. Milles & Trafford's, the shop they were looking for, was one of the buildings closer to Gringotts, only a five minutes walk from where the road split. Harry was busy following Severus and looking from one shop to the next mesmerized. He whished he could have an extra set of eyes so that he could take in more of the new images around him and almost missed the actual shop as his attention was turned to the building across the street that sold rare plants, the building looking something between a regular store and a greenhouse.

Milles & Trafford's was a stone-made building just like most of the shops in Diagon Alley and though the window Harry could see the great variety of cauldrons and other delicate looking equipment, be it made of metal or glass. Severus smiled softly at the awed look on Harry's face and led the boy in with a little nudge. Harry easily followed, wanting nothing more than to enter the building himself. The green eyed boy was easily the youngest customer in the shop and did his best not to touch any of the items around him while at the same time dying to ask what each and every one of them was.

The sage looking wizards and witches around him conversed over issues such as the latest developments in arithmology theories or the pending decisions of the Wizegamond and the boy listened rapturously, trying to take everything in at once. Severus was speaking with the owner explaining exactly what he required and neither he nor Harry noticed a wizard in luxurious dark purple robes spotting them from the other side of the store. But the old wizard had spotted them indeed and he was now approaching them with twinkling brown eyes and an excited smile.

"Very nice to see you again, Harry!" He exclaimed as he reached the two wizards. The boy turned around startled and regarded the older man confused before recognition washed over his face.

"Mr. Nicholas?" He asked with a shy smile, as the potions master observed the scene surprised.

"I see you remember me, young man." Nicholas offered smiling as he turned to observe the black clad man that was accompanying Harry. He looked tired and probably older than he really was, Nicholas thought. Definitely appeared in dire need of some fattening up as his wife would put it. But there was something in his eyes… there was protectiveness there and a deep love for the green eyed boy, Nicholas was sure. And most importantly, the moment he realized he was being observed, those eyes seemed to freeze over, turning into an abyss of black and dark grey, locking all their secrets somewhere deep inside. A master Occlumence perhaps?

"I'm Severus Snape." The man introduced himself, his tone precise and curt. What a strange young man, Nicholas thought as he regarded the person Harry had affectionately called Sev a year ago; he didn't look like someone who would take being called Sev lightly. "You seem to know each other?" He asked looking from the boy, who smiled sheepishly, to the older man and back.

"Oh, we met almost a year ago to the day." Nicholas offered chuckling once. "In Diagon Alley again; I believe you had taken him to buy a telescope?" Severus cocked an eyebrow remembering the day in question.

"I see." He stated laconically. "And your name would be?" His face betrayed nothing but, from the brief first look he caught before the black clad man hid behind a mask of ice, Nicholas could tell that a great part of Severus's reaction was provoked by his protectiveness of the boy. He was acting much like a wolf, he noted, protecting his cub. It would be interesting to observe if the younger man, in all honesty, didn't look so intimidating. Severus on his part, was trying to came up with a reason why the old wizard seemed so familiar; he was certain they had never met in the past.

"Forgive my manners." The old wizard offered apologetically. "Nicholas is the name; Nicholas Flamel, at your service." That settled it, Severus thought, his eyes widening. It definitely explained why the man was so familiar; he was Nicholas Flamel.  _The_  Nicholas Flamel, as in the world renowned alchemist and sole known creator of the Philosopher's Stone. Harry was regarding the exchange with curious eyes; he knew that name. Flamel… Severus seemed to recognize it too and from his expression, Nicholas was somebody pretty important.

"It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Flamel." Severus said, his voice betraying nothing of his inner turmoil as he extended his hand in greeting. He was conversing with a six hundred old alchemist; that didn't happen every day. What's that sparkling in Sev's eyes, Harry wondered. Nicholas was _definitely_  someone important. "I'm a great admirer of your work."

"Oh well." Was Nicholas's only comment as he shook the potions master's hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you too. I had a feeling young Harry's and mine paths would cross again one day!" He stated as he winked at a blushing Harry. "Now young man, I knew you were interested in astrology but I never imagined meeting you here too."

"I'm not the customer this time, Mr. Flamel." Harry stated with a short laugh. "I just tagged along. Not that I complain, mind you; this shop is amazing!" It was Nicholas' turn to laugh.

"Yes, I figured you would like it." The old wizard stated. "And what would you be looking for here Mr. Snape, if I'm allowed to ask; you still are much younger than the usual clientele." Nicholas inquired.

"You see I…" Severus started trying to come up with a viable excuse when the owner of the shop returned with a smile.

"You're in luck, professor!" He exclaimed with a smile. "We have on of the cauldrons you require in stock! Not an easy feat when looking for pure silver eh?" He asked before noticing Nicholas. "I didn't see you there, Mr. Flamel! An honor to have you at our shop as always! I suppose you're here for your order?"

"Of course. Everything ready?"

"Everything you required arrived yesterday evening!" The owner assured him. "I shall go and fetch them immediately." Nicholas nodded and the merchant left after adding; "One of our employees will bring you the cauldron in a matter of minutes, professor Snape."

"So a pure silver cauldron?" Nicholas asked cocking an eyebrow. "An interesting purchase; not many potions require it and not many wizards -especially of your age- seek to buy one. But then again, professor Snape, I knew I had heard your name before; you're the potions master in Hogwarts correct? The youngest potions master in the last four centuries if my memory serves me right."

"You would be correct, Mr. Flamel." Severus said nodding, trying to suppress his shock of the world renowned alchemist having heard of him.

"Please do call me Nicholas, professor." The older man requested.

"If you call me Severus." The black clad man offered back with a soft smile.

"Agreed." Nicholas stated laughing. "So, Severus, tell me." He started looking between him and Harry. "Would you happen to be young Harry's father?" Harry and Severus smirked, the similarity in their reaction not going unnoticed by the old wizard.

"No, Mr. Flamel." Harry answered for both of them.

"No?" Nicholas questioned; that did explain the boy calling the potions master Sev. But then again… "I could swear you were father and son; you do look alike."

"We've been getting that a lot." Severus admitted with a smirk. "But no, I'm just looking after Harry for his parents." And yet you love him as your own, Nicholas thought as he looked at both of them contemplatively. He had just noticed it but something was a bit… off with their appearance and it wasn't just their weight and overall paleness for this being the end of August. You wouldn't get it on first glance, not even on second or third, but after carefully observing them, you just couldn't miss it.

"And how come your parents aren't with you at this beautiful summer morning?" Nicholas inquired confused; twice now during the summer months he had witnessed Harry with Severus.

"They are busy, sir." Harry replied shrugging his shoulders. And apparently the boy wasn't much bothered by the fact, almost as if he was used to it.

"I see. And I must insist you call me Nicholas too; I feel old enough already!" Harry laughed at the declaration.

"All right, Nicholas." The boy agreed.

"I wonder if you two young men would be…" Nicholas started only to be interrupted by the merchant who returned with a box filled with delicate looking items. Not vials exactly, Harry noted as he observed the strange looking, glass-made objects.

"I hope that everything is of your liking?" The shop owner asked as Nicholas pulled out the sole bronze item from the lot; it looked like a sphere in the size of an orange. Nicholas pulled out his wand and tapped it once, causing the sphere to open and from within smaller spheres to appear and start floating around the central one as it closed and floated in turn over Nicholas' palm. The smaller spheres where green, blue, red and grey in colour, seemed to have one symbol each carved in a darker hue on their surface. Triangles? Harry wondered as he watched them rotating; before he managed to ponder on the strange symbols once more, Nicholas tapped the sphere again and it returned to its primary condition.

"Yes, everything is perfect as usual." Nicholas reassured the man who then left to greet some new costumers in the shop.

"Always at your service, Mr. Flamel." He stated and turned towards Severus. "Your cauldron will take only one more minute, professor."

"Interested in the Element Deriver Harry?" Nicholas asked with a smile; he hadn't missed the interested look on the boy's face.

"Is that how the sphere is called?" He asked in awe. "Elemental you said? That was what the symbols on the coloured spheres stood for? They looked like runes, but not quite." Harry stated blushing at the ever growing smile on Nicholas' face.

"You noticed them?" He asked intrigued. "And yes, you would be right. The symbols stand for the elements but they're not runes; they are called alchemic symbols Harry." Nicholas exclaimed. Harry's eyebrows nearly disappeared under his unruly hair.

"Alchemic symbols?" He asked confused. "Are you an alchemist then?" He asked his eyes wide. Severus chuckled.

"That would be correct once again." Nicholas affirmed. The shop employer finally arrived with the cauldron for Severus; Harry's eyes widened once again. It was brilliantly made, intricate patterns covering the gleaming silver.

"Your cauldron, professor." The shop employer stated as he placed the cauldron carefully on the desk. Severus nodded once and paid the price required -quite a costly sum Harry decided- as Nicholas observed the purchase with keen eyes, his interested piqued. "Would you require anything else?"

"No that would be all." Severus stated as he completed his careful inspection of the cauldron, casting a quick spell to assure it was solid silver. Satisfied, he turned to the shop employer. "I will send my house elf later today to pick it up." He stated and turned his attention back to Harry and Nicholas; he wouldn't risk walking around with such an expensive cauldron and he'd rather not explain why he would have to put it under a concealment charm to the owner.

"As I said before, an interesting purchase." Nicholas stated with a smile.

"I believe it is, yes." Severus agreed as Harry nodded.

"And now back to what I meant to say before we were interrupted." The alchemist continued. "I was wondering if you two gentlemen have the afternoon free." Severus and Harry turned to each other sharing a look; they could spare one afternoon.

"We do." They said at the same time, turning to look at a chuckling Nicholas.

"Lovely! Then how would you feel coming over my house for tea around five?" Nicholas asked. "Perenelle, my wife, would be overjoyed and I would like to show you exactly what this sphere does, Harry." The boy felt like jumping up and down in joy; a real alchemist wanted to teach him something! He turned to Severus -who looked slightly surprised at the declaration- expectedly. The potions master smiled.

"We would like it very much." Severus acquiesced as Harry smiled and hugged him with a soft " _Yay!_ "

"It's settled then!" Nicholas said clapping his hands once. "You can floo over at five by simply stating you want to visit Flamel castle." Harry's eyes gleamed as he looked at Severus; yet another castle. "I will connect my fireplace to the main floo network for the afternoon."

"We will be there at five sharp." Severus reassured him and with that they exited the shop, the three wizards walking together towards the Leaky Cauldron chatting animatedly over Hogwarts. When they reached Florian Fortesque's their ways parted as the two younger wizards felt drawn to the new 'Triple Chocolate Surprise Sundae' advertised on the chalk board; of course they wouldn't be able to eat it there -for their cover's sake and all- but nothing stopped Harry from going in and buying two to go.

 


	15. Alchemy

Harry had nearly chocked on his ice cream when Severus explained exactly who Nicholas Flamel was. He was at the moment staring at the potions master with a half crazed look, sporting that glint again.

"You could have said something!" The boy accused him.

"What exactly?" The potions master asked, clearly amused. He leaned back on the sofa, taking in the afternoon sun, glad he could lift the glamour now that they were away from the public eye. They were seated at the back porch of the castle -one of four actually- that allowed a great view of the grounds and the glistering lake in the distance, taking full advantage of the elevated ground on which the keep was built. And to think that he used to live at Spinner's end, knowingly ignoring this estate! He owed Harry quite a lot, he decided.

"I don't know!" The boy exclaimed. He was mortified; he had actually asked the only known creator of the Philosopher's Stone, the holly grail of all alchemists around the world, if he was an alchemist! "You could have dropped a hint or something!"

"I was quite shocked myself Harry." Severus stated with a smile. He opened his eyes and took in the panicking figure of the boy that was, for all intents and purposes, his son. "And I don't think he cared; you seem to have made quite an impression on the man. He did invite us for tea after all." The potions master reminded him.

"He did." Harry agreed, smiling now. "And he said he wants to show me how the Elemental Deriver works! Did you hear that Dad? Nicholas Flamel wants to show  _me_  how an alchemic instrument works!" Severus almost didn't comment on Harry's statement upon being called Dad once again.

"Why shouldn't he Harry?" The young professor finally asked with a smile. "By goblins' gold, the man has lived long enough to recognize talent when he sees it!" Harry blushed a new shade of crimson at the statement, making Severus roll his eyes fondly; the boy had no sense of self-worth.

"He did know who  _you_  are." Harry deadpanned; it was Severus's turn to blush, even if he tried to look unaffected by the praise.

"He's Dumbledore's friend so he must have picked it up from him." The potions master offered as Harry shook his head in exasperation. When would Severus stop selling himself short?

"Nonsense; you are the youngest potions master in centuries, he said so himself."

"Whatever." Severus dismissed Harry's statement with a wave. "The point is that we're invited to his home in an hour. I always wondered where he lived and I've been dying to see an alchemist's lab." The potions master admitted almost gleefully.

"You and I both!" The boy exclaimed with excitement before another wave of fright hit him. "But Sev!" He called in a small voice.

"What now?" Severus questioned with a smile.

"I know nothing of alchemy! What if I say something silly or…"

"Harry, calm down will you?" Severus said, chuckling at the fretting boy. "No matter how smart or talented you are," Harry snorted and Severus threw him and unimpressed look "you're only eight and alchemy is a rare branch of magic. There are very few true alchemists in the world and they keep the secrets of their trade; Nicholas won't expect you to know anything." The green eyed wizard relaxed visibly at the reassurance.

"I'm just excited is all."

"I hadn't noticed." Severus stated drily. Harry chuckled at the nonchalance of his tone and rubbed the back of his neck.

"I see your point."

"Now what do you say we eat something before we floo over?" The potions master asked pulling himself up from the couch he lay on. "Minnie said we have roast today." Harry jumped up too and walked towards the kitchen; Minnie's roast was legendary in his opinion and if the same didn't apply for the rest of the world, it should be.

"You won't find me saying no." Harry laughed at the amused potions master.

"I didn't think I would." Severus muttered under his breath with a smile. The roast did live up to its reputation, as expected, and five o'clock found the two wizards well rested and well fed. They stood in front of the lit fireplace and shared one last look before stepping into the flames, concealing charms in place.

"Flamel castle," Severus called with a clear voice and the world started spinning. The next time Harry opened his eyes, he found himself in a completely different hall, but unmistakably in castle; an old woman dressed in green robes moved to greet them.

"Good evening, young men!" She stated in a warm voice. Harry smiled winningly at her and she returned the smile. "I'm Perenelle and you must be Severus and Harry, if my husband has informed me correctly."

"Indeed we are." Severus offered. "It's an honor to meet you, Mrs. Flamel."  
"Perenelle." She corrected him with a smile. "Nicholas will be with us shortly; he seems to have forgotten himself in his laboratory again." She stated shaking her head affectionately; Severus guessed it was a very common occurrence in the Flamel residence. "Please follow me to the living room." They did just that while Perenelle explained how her husband seemed to lose touch of time when getting new equipment for his lab.

"Not unlike someone I know." Harry stated as he turned to look at a smiling Severus with a smile.

"Men of intellect!" Perenelle exclaimed with a smile. "They all are the same deep down." They reached the living room and sat down, Perenelle serving them tea with a load of shortbread cookies eyeing their seemingly too skinny frames with an appraising eye. That was the time Nicholas chose to appear, running in from a corridor in great haste.

"Forgive me for my tardiness." Nicholas exclaimed as he walked towards them. Severus and Harry rose to greet him. "I was studying a new scroll and I was certain I had one more hour before five!" Harry smiled as Nicholas patted him on his back.

"Apparently Severus here has the same issue." Perenelle informed him with a knowing look, making the potions master blush a faint pink.

"Guilty as charged madam!" Severus exclaimed, making them laugh; after some light conversation, Perenelle offered to take Severus to the greenhouses of the castle where a great variety of rare specimens thrived after Nicholas showed them his lab. The two wizards skipped to the lab in joy as Nicholas explained where exactly the castle was situated; apparently, they had landed themselves in Northern Ireland. They walked towards what seemed to be the dungeons, much to Severus's surprise.

"Metallurgy is a great part of alchemy you understand." Nicholas offered observing Severus' expression; there it was again, he thought. That detail that seemed slightly off. "As it is, it makes no sense to keep my lab above ground; it would be completely inconvenient. So, I separate my time spent for my studies between the lab and the astronomy observatory I keep at the highest tower."

"You need to forge metal in alchemy?" Harry asked intrigued.

"If you do your job right, there comes a time when forging metal becomes a necessity." Nicholas agreed, looking at Harry. Intelligent, he thought as he studied Harry's furrowed brow. And a mystery. They walked to the lab casually conversing. Nicholas smiled at their expectant faces before pushing the door open; they held their breath and entered the room. They exhaled simultaneously.

The room was wide and filled with all shorts of equipment; vials and metallic mechanisms were strategically place around the room. A library filled with scrolls and vials of colorful liquids covered the greater part of the back wall but that wasn't what caught Harry's eye; the ceiling of the room was covered in what appeared to be a system of chains, pulleys and hooks, created to lead something from the great fireplace in the corner to the middle of the room where a great, stone built, round well was found. On closer inspection, the green eyed wizard realized it wasn't a well at all; the walls were too short, only reaching his waist and it was too shallow, the bottom on the same level with the floor. It was more of a grand basin, if nothing else.

"Wow!" Harry stated with sparkling eyes.

"Best compliment I ever got for my lab." Nicholas commended seriously, making Harry blush lightly and Severus smile knowingly. Perenelle appeared then and offered to show Severus to the greenhouses; the potions master was overjoyed in the prospect. Perenelle Flamel was known for her affinity in Herbology and she had had six centuries to gather her collection. He left a slightly fidgeting Harry behind with a very excited Nicholas. "So, Harry, what do you think of my lab?"

"It's…" Harry tried to find the proper words. "It's different." He stated after some thought. "I haven't seen how it works so that's all I can think about." He offered as an explanation.

"An honest answer." Nicholas said smiling. "And since you're being honest, tell me, has Severus informed you about my work?" Harry blushed yet again.

"He did. I had no idea of who you were before." He bowed his head in shame, stirring a laugh from the old wizard.

"That's understandable, Harry! You're only eight after all." Nicholas reassured him. "So, what did Severus tell you about my work exactly?" Harry looked at him confused.

"He said that you're a famous alchemist and the sole known creator of the Philosopher's Stone." Harry stated matter-of-factly.

"I see." Nicholas stated as he walked around the room. "And what do you think about it?" Harry's green eyes locked with his brown ones in surprise.

"What do I think about what?" Harry asked confused. "About your work?"

"Yes and no. Let me rephrase my question; what do you think about the Philosopher's Stone in particular?" That was an unexpected question, Harry thought. What did he think about the philosopher's stone? He hadn't much considered what it stood for. Severus had just repeated what he already knew; it was a Stone that gifted the user the ability to create as much gold as he would ever want and produce the elixir of life. Grant him eternal life, as the potions master had put it. Harry pondered on that fact as Nicholas regarded him carefully; the alchemist could almost see the gears turning in the boy's head.

"Honestly, sir?" Harry asked after a few more minutes of thought.

"As long as you call me Nicholas then yes, an honest answer would be what I seek."

"I had never thought about it but it… Well, it rather scares me." Nicholas's eyes twinkled as a small smile crept on his face.

"Unlimited gold and no fear of dying  _scares_  you?" He asked softly. "Many people dream about that their whole lives!"

"Yes but…" Harry began, trying to put his thoughts into words. "All the money in the world can't buy you love. And, if you live forever, how do you deal with what you leave behind? With the people who are left behind too… Did that make any sense?" Harry had tried to think what going on forever could be like. And it was great until he thought of Severus dead, his family gone, even Minnie. Then, it was lonely.

"I've walked this earth for over six centuries, Harry." Nicholas stated in a calm voice and chuckled as Harry's eyes widened. "Yes, six centuries! And I've never gotten an answer to that question that has made more sense than yours." The alchemist stated and approached Harry to place a hand on his shoulder.

"Thank you?" Harry asked confused, his face burning.

"No." Nicholas said with a smile. "Thank  _you_ , Harry." The alchemist chuckled once more and then his smiled widened as he reached a decision. "Tell me Harry, would you be interested in learning more about alchemy?" The boy almost forgot how to breathe.

"Really?" He asked in shock. Nicholas nodded. "I would love to!"

"Splendid then!" Nicholas stated as his smile widened. "How about I give you the basics today?" He asked and chuckled again at Harry's vivid nodding; he pulled out his wand and conjured two chairs next to a desk filled with various unknown instruments and motioned Harry to sit, taking a place across him. "First things first Harry; let's talk about the  _Tria Prima_  or, as they're otherwise known, the  _Three Primes_ …"

The hours went by like a breeze for the alchemist and the green eyed boy and it was only after Perenelle came to knock on the laboratory's door that they realized just how long it had been. Nicholas, who had just finished explaining what the Elemental Deriver was, turned towards the door with a start.

"I see you kept yourselves busy." She commended as Severus simply looked at the unlikely scene unfolding in front of his eyes; the greatest alchemist in history was explaining Harry how a strange alchemical instrument worked.

"We did." Nicholas agreed with a smile. "I suppose it's time for you to leave?" He asked and Severus nodded.

"It's almost eight thirty." The potions master informed them, smiling slightly as Harry's eyes widened.  _Eight_  thirty? The boy thought. Whatever had happened to  _seven_  thirty?

"In that case…" Nicholas pulled out his wand and summoned an empty parchment and an old one from the bookcase; with swift copying spell, he duplicated the table of what seemed to be three columns of runes and their explanations. He also summoned an old book from one of the top selves. "I want you to take these, Harry, and study them carefully." Harry smiled and nodded, almost glowing once he received the book and scroll.

"Thank you, Nicholas!"

"Excuse me?" Severus asked confused.

"Oh I knew I had forgotten something!" Nicholas commented with a sigh. "Severus, could you indulge an old man, I wonder?"

"What are you up to, Nicholas?" His wife asked, smiling mostly at the boy standing next to her husband.

"Indulge you, Nicholas?" The potions master asked. If this was going where he thought it was…

"From the few minutes we spent together…"

"Over three hours." Perenelle admonished.

"… I noticed that Harry shows an aptitude for my art." Nicholas continued with a smile.

"An aptitude?" Severus asked; he kept as calm as possible on the outside but on the inside he was doing a victory dance.

"Yes. I would like to make it an appointment between the two of us, let's say every Saturday? I would like it very much if I could teach him about alchemy." Nicholas explained as Harry nodded emphatically. Severus smiled proudly, unable to keep that emotion from his face.

"I see no reason why you should not."

"Thank you, Sev!" Harry exclaimed and run to hug the potions master. "Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"Don't mention it, kid." The black clad man stated, ruffling Harry's unruly hair affectionately. Nicholas, who observed the scene fondly, did a double take at the two wizards. Could it really be that simple? And then it was gone, before he could think it through.

"Let's make it a morning appointment then; next Saturday at ten?" The alchemist asked.

"Ten would be just fine." Severus agreed as Harry nodded, clutching the book to his chest. Nicholas nodded with a smile; but there was something… Inwardly he sighed; indulging his curiosity had been the main reason why he had chosen to live for that long after all.

"Lovely then; now what do you say Perenelle takes Harry for something to eat while we talk for a while?" Severus looked at the old wizards stonily. "There's just something I've been meaning to ask. Nothing bad, I assure you." Severus nodded and a curious Perenelle escorted and equally confused Harry to the kitchen. Once the door closed, Severus turned to face the old alchemist; this didn't foreshadow well, he imagined.

"How can I be of service?" The potions master asked calmly.

"I just couldn't help but realize a couple of things and I wanted to run them by you." Nicholas stated, clasping his hands behind his back; he started pacing.

"By all means, I'll be glad to listen."

"Firstly, we have established that you're not Harry's father." Nicholas stated as Severus nodded once. "Yet you seem to be with him almost every day?"

"I'm watching over him for his parents, I have already told you so." The potions master stated icily.

"Every day though?" Nicholas asked. "You seem to be in place to make an arrangement for all his Saturdays."

"His parents are away a lot."

"Yes, his parents." Nicholas stated running a finger on the back of a leather book, facing away from Severus. "I suppose Harry  _has_  parents, ergo a last name." Severus recoiled at the statement slightly. Of course this would come up sooner or later. And what could he say to that?

"I can assure you that Harry has both parents  _and_  a last name." He simply commented. Nicholas chuckled.

"And then there's the other thing I noticed; I was looking at you and Harry this morning and something just felt… off." Severus regarded him coolly as his heart was beating like crazy.

"Off?"

"Yes. The way you looked was just wrong. I'm six hundred years old Severus; I used to pride myself that I can see through any glamour spell but you? You sure pulled a number on me, young man!" The alchemist exclaimed as Severus blanched.

"I would say that I don't know what you're talking about but I'll choose not to insult us both. So instead I'll ask; what are you going to do with that knowledge?" The potions master asked steadying himself.

"Severus, curiosity has always been a trait of mine." Nicholas stated smiling. "I can't help it. I just want to know."

"Very well." Severus started weighing his opportunities. "Harry's last name is Potter; he's the twin brother of the Boy Who Lived." No need to tell him the whole truth, he decided. Harry had to be kept safe. "And yes, we both use glamour spells, but the reason why is private. Having sorted that out, I may not have your experience, but I am a master Occlumence; I'll guard my secrets." Severus stated icily. There.

"I have no doubt you will." Nicholas stated thoughtful. "Harry is a… special young man. He's intelligent, you know he is, he has a will to learn and I'd be damned if I didn't notice his talent. And he's a great boy; he has been raised well. By you mostly I presume." Severus looked at him confused.

"I have lived long enough to keep many secrets Severus; in the beginning I found it hard to do so but now?"

"Now what?"

"I have discovered that the best way to keep a secret is simply to never learn it!" Nicholas stated, laughing at the openly shocked face of the potions master.

"Excuse me?" The potions master asked for the second time in the last ten minutes.

"It's simple, really." The alchemist said. "You don't have to tell me why this disguise is necessary and I will not ask. But I would like you and Harry to feel you don't have to disguise yourselves while in these halls; nobody enters my home without permission and both Perenelle and I have mastered Occlumency centuries ago." Nicholas stated.

"So you're telling me that you won't tell a soul about this?" Severus asked seriously. "Not even Dumbledore?"

"Albus is a friend of mine and an old colleague but I don't see why this should concern him. No, he will hear nothing of this. I'm ready to take the Unbreakable Oath if needed and so will Perenelle once I explain the situation to her." That caught Severus off guard.

"But  _why_?" He asked moving closer to the alchemist. "Why would you do such a thing?" Nicholas chuckled.

"My age has come up a lot during this conversation, but I will bring it up once again; in all my years I have never chosen to teach a single person, Severus." That revelation did come as a small shock to the black clad man.

"Then Harry?"

"Harry as I said has showed an aptitude for alchemy. He wasn't the first person that I have ever met to show such a talent but he was the only one that has showed such a character in so young an age." Nicholas explained. "He's going to do great things, that boy. And I want to help." And at the sincerity of his words, Severus could only smile.

 


	16. Springtime

It was almost midnight on a Saturday, eight months after Nicholas had expressed his wish to take Harry in as his apprentice. That chilly April's night, Harry Potter turned his telescope towards Hydra; he had been studying the skies for over two hours and this was the last constellation he wanted to observe before calling it a night. He had been doing a lot of astronomy lately, since it was needed, not only for improving his general knowledge, but for his studies in potions and alchemy too.

Astronomy, he had realized, along with history of magic, herbology, arithmology and runes -subjects he had taken up during the past months- although not categorized as a separate branch of magic -ergo couldn't appear on his mark- were undoubtedly useful in his overall studies. Potion making for example counted a lot on herbology, astronomy and in some cases even ancient runes, while arithmancy helped bounds with his spellwork and general understanding of magical theories.

And speaking of things that appeared and didn't appear on his emblem, Severus had discovered an incredibly helpful book in his library after Harry acquired the rune that marked him as a transfiguration apprentice. He had actually been pretty miffed having missed it during his first search, but Harry had just laughed it off; Severus had been buried neck deep into scrolls and books, trying to keep up with his teaching and his Wolfsbane research.

Anyway, according to the book, an emblem didn't mark apprenticing and mastery in magic conventionally. It turned out that you were recognized as an apprentice in a field of magic if you showed dedication and worked hard towards the goal you had set. Mastery was a different thing altogether; an emblem didn't mark you as a master when you had acquired all knowledge possible on a subject, no; you were considered a master if you completed a deed -and the book was positively shady in the description of said accomplishment- that marked your dedication to that field of magic. Harry supposed that the ultimate mark of dedication one could pay to alchemy -the apprenticing symbol of which had just appeared a few days ago and was his pride and joy since then- would be the creation of the philosopher's stone. Not an easily accomplished feat as Harry had discovered.

His lessons on alchemy had started last summer and continued non stop since that August afternoon. Nicholas and Perenelle had become in their own special way a part of Harry's and Severus's everyday lives and the green eyed boy now had his very own alchemist's lab -not quite as impressive as Nicholas's yet- right across the potions lab in the castle's dungeons. That suited Harry just fine as he was able to pop in and out of his laboratory to Severus's and help as he could with his research.

In the meantime, while looking for ingredients suitable for the Wolfsbane, Severus had made some progress with smaller assignments on the side; he had almost perfected the potion he had used to cure Harry's eyesight and had now proceeded to make variations of it for other types of eyesight deficiencies. The Hogwarts potions master had even come up with a few other healing potions but he had put them on the side to continue his work with the Wolfsbane.

Admittedly, Perenelle's greenhouse had proven to be of great help to both the potions master -who had acquired rare samples of plants helpful for his work that were now also growing in his own greenhouse- and Harry alike, aiding him in enriching his knowledge of herbology.

Both Flamels had kept their promise, Harry thought as he inked his eagle feather quill and wrote down the exact location of every star that composed Hydra on his chart, keeping some notes on his notebook on the side. There had been a couple of raised eyebrows the first time -that very first Saturday- when the couple had seen them without their glamour but that was it. As a matter of fact, Perenelle had been overjoyed at how much healthier they truly looked and hadn't failed to tell them so. Nicholas had even added to their concealment charms offering some of his own that were even harder to detect. Harry couldn't be happier for their reaction; feeling accepted and welcomed for just being who he was had left his heart a little lighter.

He wrote down the last few lines on his notebook and stifled a yawn; a quick glance at his pocket watch -a Christmas present from Nicholas- confirmed that it was half past twelve. He pocketed his watch and swiftly gathered his notes and telescope; he figured it would be better if he made the walk down to the dungeons. More likely than not, Severus was still there working as it would be full moon in a week. The boy rubbed the back of his neck and stretched as he started descending from the western tower. He waved at a few portraits that were still awake and kept walking, passing through galleries and hidden pathways to the dungeons.

Studying had helped taking his mind off things but, now that he wasn't doing something mentally challenging to occupy his mind, he had free time to spare in his hands; time that his treacherous mind used to ponder on the events of last Friday morning. It had been one of the rare Fridays when he had the chance to eat breakfast with his brother before leaving the manor; they usually talked at night and were rarely alone. But that morning, Harry was overjoyed to be in his brother's company.

Adrian and Harry were talking animatedly since they had both woken up quite early in the morning -an uncommon occurrence for the hazel eyed twin. Harry was listening carefully as his older brother talked of the places he had seen while travelling with their parents.

" _And Paris has this great district in the wizard part of the town where you can get almost every book in charms you might ever dream of! Mom went crazy the moment we stepped foot on the market but Dad and I were just running around with Sirius trying to find the nearest Quidditch supplies shop…" Harry nodded over his cereal, his eyes alight; it had been ages since he had actually had the time to talk like that with his brother. Adrian was just the same as ever; optimistic, lively, a little loud and considering Quidditch to be the meaning of life. Even if they lived under the same roof, he had missed him._

" _And did you live at the arrondissement des sorciers?" Harry asked, thinking back to when he and Severus had travelled to Paris for a weekend last November; they had stayed at the unofficial twenty-first division of Paris also known as the wizards' district or the "arrondissement des sorciers"._

" _How did you know it's called that?" Adrian asked surprised; Harry shrugged it off and simply stated;_

" _I looked it up while you were gone." Harry said and winked "I can read too, you know!" Adrian chuckled at his brother and threw him some cereal which Harry dodged with ease. "All this training has made you violent." The green eyed boy offered mirthfully as his twin maturely tried to throw him a paper towel._

" _Why did you have to remind me?" Adrian asked, his head falling on the table next to his plate, the paper towel forgotten in his hand._

" _Oh, come on!" Harry insisted. "It can't possibly be that bad, can it?"_

" _You have no idea how bad it is!" The hazel eyed twin complained, eyes locking on his brother's emerald ones. "I've been learning all sorts of defensive magic, and last month we ever began some first year offensive spells! Why? I mean we're not even supposed to go to Hogwarts for three more years!" Harry inwardly sighed and refrained from rolling his eyes. His brother was complaining and was a little less advanced than he would have wished, but he was making progress; defensive spells were definitely a good thing to know._

" _Well, at least you're doing magic! I'll have to wait until I turn eleven and go to school for that!" And even if that was a lie, at least his brother seemed to cheer up a little after that._

" _That's something, I guess." Adrian said, his smile widening. "And I think I'm getting better at casting too; when I first casted an Incedio -you know that fire spell- I almost burned Ron's hair off! I had never seen him running so fast before and…" But Harry didn't pay attention after that. Ron? What had Ron been doing at his brother's training?_

" _Ron is there often when you train?" The green eyed boy asked, trying to mask all traces of hurt from his voice._

" _Oh, yeah." Adrian answered lightly, not noticing the changed in his brother's mood. "Sometimes when I train in Hogwarts Mr. Weasley brings him around so we can play Quidditch afterwards." Harry nodded in understanding as he continued with his breakfast, all his appetite lost. Ron could be there while Adrian trained but he wasn't even allowed to find out what his brother was training in? Lily had entered the kitchen at that moment and Severus had arrived to pick him up a few minutes later, under the scornful gaze of one James Potter. And Harry had cried that night, while Severus held him in his arms._

The green eyed wizard sighed as he took the last steps towards the potion master's couldn't say he was surprised when he noticed the light coming from beneath the door of Severus' lab. He knocked twice and entered.

"Still sweating over that scroll, Sev?" The green eyed boy asked, the moment his eyes fell over the potions master. Severus was sitting back on his armchair staring murderously at an ancient scroll on his desk; if looks could kill, that scroll would have been ashes by now.

"Hey, kid." Severus greeted him, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Finished with astronomy for the night?"

"Yes; I just needed to take a few notes on the effects of constellations on alchemic charms. I think I have understood the connection to alchemic fermentation but…" Severus chuckled.

"It's nice to see you still believe I understand what you're talking about." He stated, making Harry laugh. The boy had the tendency to sprout random facts about alchemy at the potions master who just listened with a fond smile; he had almost gave up on reminding him that he had no clue what the alchemic processes he was babbling about were.

"It went great." Harry simply stated as he sat across the potions master.

"Have you started working on these charms you were talking about?" Severus asked and Harry nodded. Apparently, alchemic charms and plain charms where a completely different aspect of magic. First and foremost, alchemic charms did not require a wand to be casted with for the simple reason that they weren't incantations; alchemic charms were small glass bottles, filled with magical ingredients and brought together with various types of oil, sealed tight and bound with metal cords. They sometimes contained runes and -the most complicated ones- sigils and their purpose was to enhance the alchemic processes, such as the converting of metals. Some worked as protection measures, boosting wards while others acted as defense or offence mechanisms; Nicholas had mentioned an alchemic charm that, once activated, could engulf an area of a square mile in complete darkness, unable to be dispersed before the charm wore off, while only its creator could see through it.

"I have started studying the simpler ones." The boy stated placing his notebook on the desk. And how's deciphering that scroll going?" Harry asked pointing at the parchment. It was old and cracked at places and Severus had acquired it last Christmas in Norway by fluke; he remembered Harry stating he wanted to see Scandinavia and decided on taking him there on the second week of the winter break. The rest of the Potter family would be in Paris, visiting a transfiguration theorist who might have had a lead on Adrian's scar. Severus mentally wished them good luck with that and booked a reservation in a chalet near the fjords. While travelling they had stumbled upon a merchant that had had that scroll for sale.

Severus had immediately noticed the images; those of a man turning into a werewolf. Harry still had trouble imagining how the transformation was even possible; the drawings were very detailed and the look on the man's face depicted his pain perfectly. Harry winced thinking how Remus -the always polite and kind Remus- had to endure that torture once a month.

"I have translated the runes." Severus stated matter-of-factly. "But it seems to be written in some code and the worst thing is it describes some kind of herb that's supposed to control the change, to regulate it if you want." He stated and pointed at a couple of runes near the end of the scroll. "It's the name right there, but in the form it was known in northern Scandinavia at the time; if only I could figure out what the original name was... I'm just so close it's frustrating!" Severus exclaimed his lips forming what could only be described as a pout. Harry burst into laughter. "What?" Severus asked surprised.

"Goblins' gold! The p-pout!" He said trying to breathe again.

"What  _pout_?" Severus asked darkly, his eyes narrowing.

"You're sulking, Sev!" Harry explained as he sobered up.

"I'm not sulking!" Severus huffed offended. "I'm brooding at the worst! And, being the owner of a castle and the last heir of an ancient bloodline, I'm entitled to brood." He stated contemplating. "Actually, if I want to honor my status, I should brood more." Harry started laughing again as Severus rose from his armchair and stretched.

"Ready to call it a day?" Harry asked rising up from his seat too.

"What time is it?" The potions master asked yawning.

"One fifteen." The boy replied looking at his watch.

"I was ready over an hour ago." He stated eyeing the watch. "You rather like that watch don't you?"

"I like pocket watches in general, I think." Harry replied shrugging his shoulders.

"Tell you what." Severus offered as they walked to the door after Harry picked up his notebook from the desk, peering at the scroll one last time. "What would you say if we stopped at the kitchen on our way to our rooms for a hot chocolate?" Harry smirked.

"I would say lead the way Sev."

"There's a good lad." Severus offered smiling. They reached the kitchen half asleep on their feet and Severus prepared two mugs of the hot liquid, placing one in front of Harry.

"Got to love chocolate." The boy sighed taking a sip.

"I do." Severus confirmed smirking at his cup.

"So, what's the translation for that mysterious plant of yours?" The green eyed wizard asked as he eased back to his chair; jokes set aside, Severus had spent weeks translating the scroll.

"If I have the whole translation correct and have deciphered the text without missing something -and trust me I  _haven't_ \- then the plant is supposed to be called, listen to this; the  _purple stone herb_." Harry cocked an eyebrow in confusion.

"The what?" That was quite anticlimactic…

"As you heard it. What I got from the scroll is that the herb wasn't a part of the native flora and was brought there by a traveler. My guess is that whoever wrote the scroll had no idea what the actual name of the herb was and thus settled on describing it; it could be anything! Any type of herb from whatever country that traveler was from!"

"A bit… less dramatic than what I expected. And what makes it so important then?" Harry asked.

"The effect of it, as described in the scroll, is recurring and pain reducing. It might be the key that will allow the  _Eloḯsa_  flower to retain its ability of reacting to the moon to some extent." Severus explained deep in thought. "I don't know."

"Well, as I have said time and time again, if anyone can solve this then you can." The boy said with conviction.

"Thank you, Harry." Severus replied draining his chocolate, looking the boy carefully. "It's still bothering you, doesn't it?" He inquired; Harry didn't even need to ask what it was that Severus was referring to.

"Yes." He simply answered. "I just don't get it, Dad!" He exclaimed. "I mean, not training me is one thing but I thought that the whole purpose of not allowing me to even  _know_  what's going on was so that Adrian's training would be kept secret! If Ron is there, why can't  _I_  be?" That was a valid question, the potions master couldn't deny that.

"I can't tell you how your parents' minds work Harry." Severus said, his tone somber as he regarded the moisture in Harry's eyes. "But for what it's worth, I think that Ron doesn't really stay while Adrian is training; he probably drops by afterwards to play Quidittch with your brother." And that was quite possibly the truth, Severus thought; there was no way neither the Potters nor Dumbledore would allow someone other than his instructors to watch Adrian train. The risk was far too great. Harry nodded once; Severus had told him the same thing last night but that bitter taste his brother's revelation had left on his mouth still lingered. "And we could talk about this all night but it's getting late and I should suggest we go to sleep before Minnie catches us here." Severus added seriously and Harry gulped down the remaining chocolate in his mug.

"That wouldn't be so pleasant." The boy stated, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as Severus nodded emphatically. That house elf had a heart of gold but could frighten a troll sometimes. Harry climbed into his bed and practically passed out after reading only a couple of lines from his copy of Shakespeare's  _The Merchant Of Venice_ , one of the works of literature -in this case a play- that Severus had deemed imperative for him to read; the potions master was adamant he should read something more than the Tales of Beedle The Bard. Not that he complained; it was nice to read something different and just for the sake of reading from times to times, even if he couldn't get all the hidden meanings in the pages. Severus however reassured him that understanding would come with time and so Harry had just decided to enjoy the stories for the moment.

His eyes closed as he drifted to sleep, book still held tight in his hands; that night Harry dreamt of a day were the whole world knew what he was capable of. He dreamed of the day he could be finally seen as his brother's equal by the people he knew and not just be the afterthought. All memories of the dream were gone come next morning; all that was left was the image of a proud smile on Severus's face and -strangely enough- of a black and silver horse running in the distance.

Sunday was spent peacefully between studying, horse riding and a bit of Quidditch practice and Harry's spirits lifted little by little. Soon Monday had dawned, finding Harry back at the training room in the dungeons, practicing transformations and Severus at Hogwarts, practicing his patience. It wasn't that he disliked teaching, he thought as he approached a Ravenclaw second year student who had done Merlin knows what with her potion. The girl in question shrunk in fear and simply nodded at his instructions. He uttered a few words to the third of the Weasley boys in Hogwarts to date, Percy, who barely breathed until the black clad man moved away. No, he didn't dislike teaching; he was rather fond of it.

And he imagined he would love his job if only he could teach without this mask he was hidden behind. When he had started teaching in Hogwarts it had been a natural reaction to hide behind his mask, not wanting to be exposed to the world again. But now? Well, he felt as if he could give it a try. But, he reminded himself with a smirk -since he never smiled at Hogwarts- Harry's security came first and in order for the present status quo to remain unchanged, images had to be kept. Besides, Severus thought and his smirk widened behind the essay he was supposedly reading, when the time did come for him and Harry to take off their masks… he just couldn't wait for their reactions. He made a mental note to have Harry take pictures when the day came.

He spent the remaining of his lessons in quiet, simply giving instructions and trying to act every bit the prejudiced man he was supposed to be; Albus had appointed him as the Head of Slytherin House this year and he was making everything he could to discomfort the man; he should have been more attentive to Harry when he had the chance!

To add to his discomfort he had even kept applying for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, fully known that Voldemort had placed a curse on it some years back. Albus of course denied and Severus was pressing more and more, knowing the Headmaster wouldn't give in. This year especially, after Quintus's decision to take two years off come next term so that he could practice his profession beyond theory, Severus had enjoyed pressuring the man to appoint him a spot he no longer desired.

His research for the Wolfsbane had reignited his passion for potions and he wouldn't change his job for the world. He idly wondered what would happen if Albus ever did give him the position. He did his best to hold back his laughter; the old coot would flip for sure. During lunch break -as he couldn't afford looking anywhere near the Headmaster in fear of laughing- he focused instead on the journey he had planned as a surprise for Harry this summer; they had been all over Europe during the fall and winter, taking a few weekends off, after Harry's alchemy lessons, and had visited France -Severus had even started teaching Harry the language a bit- Gibraltar, Spain, Italy and the general area of Scandinavia. So for the summer, the potions master had something special planned.

It wasn't that he needed any ingredients this time, no; he could order most of the stuff he wanted -with the exception of that darned mystery herb!- but he had always wanted to visit the country himself. He poked at his food faking discomfort while wondering how Harry would react when he told him they were going to India. He smirked; that would be something else worth capturing in film for sure!

 


	17. Going On Eleven

Harry was sitting on the kitchen table in Potter Manor, waiting patiently for his brother and father to return from the Quidditch field. He was munching on his breakfast slowly, biding his time. His mother was in her room getting ready and Sirius with Remus were bound to arrive any moment now. The green eyed wizard sighed studying his wand. Today was the day he was heading to Diagon Alley with his family -and some of the Weasleys, probably Ron and the twins, maybe even Percy but he rarely stayed with them anyway- to shop for his and Adrian's first year at Hogwarts.

It wasn't that Harry wasn't excited at the notion of going to Hogwarts; no! It was something that he had craved since he was five and understood what Hogwarts was. But going to Hogwarts had a number of implications chained to it; for one, he would have to spend his months away from the castle he called his home for more time than he had ever been used to, returning there only for summer holidays; he was going to miss the place he grew up the most. Then there was the fact that he would have to keep up appearances  _all_  the time. It felt odd knowing that he was six inches taller than his brother but had never been able to actually witness it as the glamour worked just fine on reflective surfaces. So he could  _feel_  he was taller, he could  _feel_  his shoulders were wider, he could  _feel_  he wasn't the scrawny boy that looked back at him from the mirror. He just couldn't see it. At least his eyes were unchanged, Harry noted as the emerald green stared back at him everyday, the only truth in a visage made of lies.

He allowed himself to think back to those past two years. The trip to India had been a blast for sure; he had loved the country to bits and Severus had even taken him to visit the Indian Ministry of Magic, located in the legendary -thus unplottable and Muggle-proofed- Black Taj Mahal. It contained one of the most celebrated libraries in the orient, and a pure treasure for alchemists across the globe. Egypt, had been another favorite for certain.

Severus had been a hit too, Harry thought chortling; the potions master had finally loosened up towards the fairer sex and -when outside the country- had even flirted back, much to Harry's amusement. He was so different under the disillusionment charms, healthier and much happier, the shadows in his eyes disappearing when away from the public eye. And he had enjoyed the changes in his person himself, even if there were a few incidents that Harry had been sworn to never mention again; that little issue with the druid woman from Ireland last spring for example and her vow of abstinence. That had gone well.

Harry remembered the scene and almost chocked on his orange juice while recalling Severus's expression as he walked in their room the morning after. He was as pale as a ghost and muttering things such as "And how should I know?" or "What type of covenant demands abstinence these days? Not even the bloody Sisterhood does that!" Harry had sworn to never allow him to live it down. Neither that nor the incident with that Duke's daughter who may or may not have been engaged. Severus in return, had sworn to never allow Harry to live down his reaction to the birds and the bees talk that Sirius gave him and his brother that June as part of their preparation for Hogwarts, so Harry deemed they were even.

If only people could see the real Severus… Oh, they would be shocked to next Sunday! Harry had the feeling they would be shocked if they knew the real him too, even excluding the Boy Who Lived thingy. He had kept busy the past two years, earning two more apprenticing marks, one in White magic -apparently all healing spells counted as such- and one, surprisingly, in Blood magic.

Both Severus and Harry where confused over that fact until the potions master went all out and did some extensive research on the subject with Nicholas's help. Blood magic was an assortment of spells, charms, potions and, apparently, alchemy; Harry had studied bits and pieces of that area of magic through the years and once he started reading on sigils, the balance tipped and he was deemed an apprentice. Since then he had done a bit of research and found out what exactly separated Blood magic from the rest; it was rituals.

Harry was fascinated by the thought; a ritual was a type of incantation that did not require a wand and was much lengthier than a spell or a curse. What was more interesting was that rituals were rare; Harry was still in the process of searching the library for any ritual that might be found inside its pages with little luck so far; that didn't mean he would stop though! Besides, blood magic had a great connection to wards and that brought him just a step closer to a plan that had started forming in his mind when he was but seven years old…

His persistence had aided him in more than one situation and more recently, in his study of alchemy; one of the greatest surprises he got from his lessons with Nicholas was that metal transformation -even when it involved gold- did not require the philosopher's stone. The alchemist had informed his pupil of that detail after the Christmas holidays this year and Harry had almost fainted. Nicholas had given him an assignment; he had stated that they could continue with theory but if he wanted to practice,  _truly_  practice alchemy, then he would have to make at least one speck of gold in his lab.

The green eyed boy had taken the assignment to heart and spent every single free hour he had to spare in his lab until, three months later, he emerged with not a speck as requested, but an ingot of the precious metal, two inches wide and four inches long. Nicholas had been overjoyed and congratulated him while Severus had celebrated the event with an impromptu trip to Italy for the weekend.

Harry, being eleven since the end of July, had the ability to open his own account at Gringotts and Severus had taken him to do just that; the green eyed purchased his own vault at the wizarding bank where that first bar of gold had slowly been accompanied by the various products of Harry's alchemic studies and some galleons which he had earned selling said products, through Nicholas of course. The profit of the first golden bar he ever sold however -and of many after that first one- went straight to the account for werewolves unable to purchase their Wolfsbane that had been set up by Remus five years ago. Severus had hugged the boy so tight, Harry had almost thought he would suffocate.

Speaking of the Wolfsbane, Severus had made great progress himself; his hard work was finally paying off and he was one step from completing the potion. It was that herb however, that mystical herb described at the scroll that kept the key, Severus was sure of that; not that it stopped him from progressing with the rest of the potion however, a fact that had now almost led him to success. He was much more optimistic about it these days. Nicholas had even helped him along as he could and so had Perenelle with her excessive knowledge of herbology. But even these two stood miffed by the mystery that was that single herb. They had both agree that the name was more of a description than scientific cataloguing and that was all they had come up with up to that moment. Well, that and an extensive list of flora that could fit said description.

Harry was ready for another trip down memory lane when his mother entered the kitchen. Lily approached him and kissed him on the top of his head affectionately.

"I can't believe my boys are going to Hogwarts!" She said, looking at Harry with misty eyes.

"Better believe it, mom." Harry said with a smile.

"And I can't believe you got your wand without me being there." She added after a short pause. Ah yes. That had been a sore spot between him and his family but an ingenious plan on Severus's side. Harry had to somehow justify he wouldn't need buying a wand so he and Severus had decided the best strategy would be to reveal part of the truth. Harry claimed that Severus had bought it for him as a birthday present carefully omitting to mention which birthday it had been for. It had also been decided that a part of the truth would be suitable for the core of the wand too; a core of phoenix feather was quite close to the truth after all.

"Mom!" Harry protested. "You can buy me an owl instead and we'll be even okay?" Lily just smiled at her son and hugged him.

"I just can't believe how much you've grown!" And if you only knew, Harry thought.

"Don't I get a hug too?" James asked as he walked through the door, Adrian in tow. He did get his hug from his wife and Adrian was next.

"Mom!" The older Potter twin protested, making Harry smirk. Although they had completely different characters and didn't look alike like the Weasley twins, Adrian and he were so similar in some aspects. It felt nice to have that connection with his brother.

"Hey, Harry!" James exclaimed, ruffling Harry's hair.

"Hey, Prongs!" Harry greeted him back; he had called James Prongs as long as he could remember; James seemed to actually like it, having always been attached to his marauder title.

"Ready for your shopping trip to Diagon Alley?" He asked sitting down eyeing the pancakes on the table. Adrian followed his example adjusting his glasses in a very James-like movement.

"Only since I was five." Harry offered smirking. James observed the smirk as he had done countless of times before and tried to pin point exactly what it reminded him. Not finding anything familiar he just shrugged it off and proceeded to eat his pancakes.

"Harry has a point." Adrian confirmed winking at his brother who smiled back. "I mean you saw our reaction the first time we stepped foot in the castle. You shouldn't be surprised."

"Well, it still strikes me as odd, thinking how I won't be seeing you at home." Lilly added, pouring Adrian some orange juice. Well, I wasn't around the manor that much anyway, Harry mentally commented as he nibbled on his pancakes.

"I can't wait till we go to Hogwarts!" Adrian exclaimed with a wide grin. "I bet the Gryffindor common room will be amazing! And living in a castle…" And then there was that, Harry mused. Not living in a castle, since he had already done that and loved every moment of it. But his parents believed it was given he would be a Gryffindor, just like the complete Potter family before him. But he wasn't so sure of it himself. For one, he was raised by Sev who was a Slytherin and he had picked up more than one of his traits. And he had also been influenced by Nicholas who, back in his time, had been a Ravenclaw. Harry figured he would do rather well in these three Houses; it wasn't that he believed himself not loyal enough for Hufflepuff, just a little too much on the sly side to be in the House of the fair and just.

Severus had declared, when the subject had been brought up a few weeks ago, that he was certain Harry would be a Gryffindor, shocking the boy speechless. The potions master was adamant Harry would be in the House of lions because, since he had many of the characteristics of all four houses, the hat would be forced to look into his heart. Harry had deadpanned that if the hat was judging based to what lay in your heat then Severus himself would be a Gryffindor too. His reward for that comment had been a hug and some hair ruffling. Harry sighed; he would just have to wait.

"Ready boys?" The voice of Sirius Black sounded from the hall.

"Think they heard you, Sirius? Maybe you should yell some more?" The amused -and less loud- voice of Remus Lupin asked.

"Show some excitement, Moony!" The dog animagus deadpanned. "It's the boys' first Hogwarts shopping spree!" They had reached the kitchen by then, only to find the Potter family had burst into laughter.

"Oh boys!" Lily exclaimed. "We can always count on you two for a good laugh."

"Of course!" Sirius stated unashamed as he plopped next to Harry on the table.

"How's it going, kiddos?" He asked, his grey eyes smiling.

"I think he meant good morning." Remus clarified.

"We had figured as much, Moony." James said wiping his eyes. "And yes, we're ready to go if you two have no more plans to make us choke on our breakfast."

"Nah, we're good for today." Sirius stated. And thus -after James and Adrian finished their pancakes- they flooed to Diagon Alley. The morning had gone relatively well, Harry thought, with the exception of a few smarmy comments towards Severus from James and Sirius when Harry's wand was referred.

"Did you make sure it works?" James asked laughing.

"I can't cast spells yet." Harry had replied falsely and through tight lips. He hated when his father and Sirius spoke so lowly of Sev. "But Mr. Ollivander said it fit me perfectly."

"Just saying, kiddo." Sirius offered. They had been prevented from adding more after a stern look from Lily. The shopping had gone without a hitch -if you excepted a few stares at Adrian- and Harry could honestly say he was excited to get his official Hogwarts books; he might had started covering fifth year material in his private studies but being in school just felt  _new_. He realized that some part of him couldn't wait for September first. The last shop they visited for the day, after staring at the new Nimbus 2000 that had been on display for some good ten minutes, was the Magical Menagerie. Half an hour later, Harry and Adrian stepped out with two owls; a large brown one for Adrian -newly named Apollo- and a snow white for Harry. The green eyed boy had taken an immediate liking to the owl and had chosen the name Hedwig, after a Viking witch queen that had led her people to glory back when Merlin was still at his prime.

They had met the Weasleys -Arthur, Molly, Ron, the twins and Percy- at the Leaky Cauldron and the boys had talked about Quidditch a bit. They spoke of the teams they supported and the chances Chudley Cannons had to win the league this year. Harry just smiled and added his bit from his corner; the boys had no way of knowing, but he and Sev were avid fans of the Bulgarian Vratsa Vultures and went to their games often, even if that meant travelling abroad. Nation wise they supported the Hollyhead Harpies, becoming their fans after that first game they had attended when Harry was seven and had bought the tickets as a present for Severus.

They parted on the light note of seeing each other at the platform on September first. The next week passed like a breeze and August the thirty first found Harry and Severus at the balcony of the castle looking at the lake as they did every summer.

"I'll miss this place." Harry muttered as he looked at Severus. "And I'll miss being me."

"You'll still be yourself at Hogwarts, Harry." The potions master offered smiling ruefully.

"You know what I mean, Sev." The boy stated looking at his hand as if he was going to miss it too. Yes, Severus thought, I know exactly what you mean. "And I guess I'll have to lay low, try to be average and…"

"Hey!" Severus stopped him, earning a confused look from the boy. " _Average_?" The potions master asked incredulously. "Why would you think that?"

"But I'll have to downplay my abilities and…"

"Sure you can't start casting fifth year spells or mass produce precious metals in the dungeons but  _average_? What made you think that?" Severus asked sipping his iced tea.

"So you're saying…"

"I'm saying that I'll be bloody angry if you don't end up first in your year for the simple reason that you can do it with your eyes closed." Severus stated lightly.

"Dad?" Harry started with a smile.

"Yes Harry?" Severus prompted mirroring the boy's expression. Harry hugged him.

"Love you."

"I know." He offered in a thick voice. "Love you too, kid." They just stood watching the field for a while before Severus spoke again. "Now, have you packed everything?"

"Yes. I think I have." The boy answered.

"Have you placed disillusionment charms over your extracurricular books?" They had agreed Harry should take some extra books with him at Hogwarts so that he could continue with his studies.

"Yes and all the locking and warding spells and charms I could think of are on my trunk too. I won't even comment on the enchantments you put on that thing…"

"Taken your alchemy notebook?"

"Yes and if anyone opens it -provided they will have opened my trunk first- will find it empty." Harry was working on sigils at the moment, a part of alchemy that, as Nicholas had explained, demanded something other magic areas lacked; imagination. The alchemist had suggested Harry to do something creative as practice and when Harry had suggested potions, Nicholas had reminded him that you could only be so creative with a potion before it exploded; he had suggested cooking instead and the green eyed wizard had found himself covered in flour in no time. Truth be told, Severus had helped both at the cooking and the getting covered in flour part. "Speaking about alchemy, has Nicholas appeared a little agitated to you during the past month or am I imagining things?" Harry asked worriedly. Severus sighed.

"He has been worrying over something, Harry, I can tell you as much. But I have given my word to him that I won't reveal the reason why." Harry started to protest. "He didn't tell me either; I found out from a different source -who has also sworn me to secrecy but I'll digress- and Nicholas asked me not to tell you so I wouldn't worry you."

"And not knowing won't worry me?" Harry asked cocking an eyebrow. "And what other source?" The boy asked confused. Severus chuckled.

"I believe you'll figure it out on your own soon enough; this way I'll get to keep my word and you'll be able to ease your worries." Severus stated. "Besides, I don't know the actual reason behind his worry myself." The potions master added.

"But…"

"But nothing, kid. You'd better make sure you have fun at Hogwarts and that's an order!" Severus stated imperiously.

"I will." Harry added laughing. "Sev?"

"Yes?"

"You really won't mind it if I end up in Gryffindor?" The boy's question was casual but his eyes betrayed how deep his worry ran.

"Of course I won't!" Severus reassured him. "I want you to enjoy staying in whatever House you get sorted at and that's an order too. Wolf's honor." Severus swore on his animagus form. Both of them had taken the potion to find out their forms the day after Harry's birthday. The potions master was a bit shocked when they both ended up being wolves -a bit too close to being a  _dog_  he thought- but figured it was to be expected with all their research on the Wolfsbane. Harry just smiled and reminded him your animagus form is supposed to tell something about your character and Severus send them both into peals of laughter when he suggested a deep part of them both wanted to throw back its head and howl at the moon, creating a rather interesting mental picture. Harry had sworn to work on his transformation every night and show Severus his progress over the Christmas holidays if no other opportunity arose.

"Okay, Sev." Harry stated in a much lighter tone.

"And now on to more important matters." Severus stated standing up. "I have asked Minnie to make that chocolate cake…"

"Yay!" Harry exclaimed and made a beeline for the kitchen, leaving a chuckling Severus behind him. The next morning, Harry was awakened not by his mother, as he had expected, but by his father who ushered him and Adrian in the living room and gave them one last gift before they departed for Hogwarts.

"Is that…" Adrian began, touching the silvery cloth reverently.

"You invisibility cloak?" Harry asked, his voice just as awed as Adrian's; every good story his father had ever told them had began with this cloak of at least included it at some point.

"Yep! And I want you guys to have it; I would give you the map too but Filtch confiscated it on our last year and we never got it back so…" James explained, clearly still pained by the loss.

"The cloak will be great, Dad." Adrian stated and Harry nodded.

"Just don't get into too much trouble wearing it, or your mom will kill me." The boys laughed but readily agreed and the cloak was soon tucked into Adrian's trunk. They went to pack the rest of their personal belongings, or rather Adrian did as Harry fed Hedwig and placed her in her cage with a promise to let her fly to Hogwarts once they boarded the train.

The ride to the station was rather amusing with the car being magically enlarged on the inside to accommodate the entire Potter family, Ron who had slept over, Sirius, Moony, three trunks and two owl cages. Sirius had been trying to convince the three almost students that this year the sorting would include a troll; Ron almost believed him, as Fred and George had told him something similar, even if Adrian had let it slip about the Sorting Hat a month ago.

Their arrival at King's Cross coincided with the Weasleys' -more out of luck than planning- and farewells were exchanged once they reached Platform 9 ¾. The red steam engine was ten minutes from leaving when Harry noticed the Weasleys had brought their younger member, Ginny, with them; the redheaded girl used to have a crush on Adrian when she was younger which had faded away with the years and Harry had discovered he liked spending time with her, finding her a smart, if rather shy girl. He waved at her while boarding the train and she smiled back before resuming asking her mother when she could go to Hogwarts herself.

Last hugs were exchanged as the train departed for Hogwarts and Harry with Adrian looked back at their teary eyed parents as they waved them away. Harry barely managed to see their father placing a comforting arm around their mother's shoulders before the train took a turn and the station was hid from their eyes. The Potter twins shared a smile and sat back down in the compartment they had found with Ron. Adrian and Ron spoke lightly about what they expected of Hogwarts while Harry made the effort to check through his spellbooks for the year once again munching on a chocolate frog he had gotten from the cart; he'd better make sure he wouldn't cast more advanced spells while at school, at least not until after Christmas holidays when he would be able to use research in the library was the source of said enchantments. He was thinking about how different Severus would have to act at Hogwarts -the green eyed wizard had been forewarned by the potions master himself- when the door of their compartment opened and, Neville Longbottom, a boy who Harry had seen once or twice in the past entered asking if they had seen his toad.

After assuring him that they had not, he left, only to return minutes later, followed by a bushy haired witch, already dressed in her school robes. It so happened that the very moment she did, Ron had pulled out his wand as Adrian was attempting to teach him a simple levitation spell.

"Oh, are you trying magic? Let's see it then." Her tone was bossy, Harry noted and her front teeth a little too large but her brown eyes showed no ill intentions. Ron looked rather taken aback from her request.

"Er, all right." He pulled out his wand and pointed at the silver sickle, the coin they had used as target; a bit too heavy for a first try, Harry thought, but then again Adrian had already covered the first year material. Once Harry had heard just how far into his studies Adrian had gone he was a bit disappointed; he had wished his brother had a larger head start than that, but Severus had explained it was a rather admirable feat for a boy his age. Then he had smiled proudly at Harry and kept explaining a fairly complicated transformation theory to the green eyed wizard.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_." Ron said flatly, completely missing both intonation and wand movement.

"Are you sure you're doing right?" The bushy haired girl said. "I've done a few simple spells already and they've worked for me. I've read about this spell too but never tried it myself. Nobody in the family is magic…" And she kept going on and on about Hogwarts as Harry tuned her out. "I'm Hermione Granger by the way. And who are you?" The three boys looked at her quite shocked.

"I'm Ron Weasley."

"Adrian Potter."

"Harry Potter." But Hermione didn't much pay him attention as she seemed to have stuck at Adrian's name and started reciting all the books he had been featured in. Harry just smirked as Adrian turned crimson.

"Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad now. You three better change you know. I'd expect we'll be there pretty soon." And thus she left, taking Neville with her.

"Whatever House I'm in, I hope she's not in it." Ron mumbled and the Potter twins laughed.

"And don't worry about the spell, Ron." Adrian said. "It's rather complicated." Then he seemed to remember something. "Hey, Harry!"

"Yes, Adrian?" He asked still smiling at Ron's comment.

"I promised to teach you when at school remember?" The hazel eyed Potter twin asked smiling wide. Oh. That.

"Yeah, I remember." Harry answered smiling; Adrian had remembered of a promise made years ago and, even though he wouldn't need the training, the thought alone counted far more that all the training in the world.

"Do you want to give the spell a try?" Adrian said. "I'll correct you if something's wrong." Harry smiled and pulled out his wand, having half a mind to cast the spell wrong for the sake of appearances when Severus's prompt to be the best in his year came to mind. He'd better put the bases early.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_." He commanded and the coin rose immediately from the floor, floating mid air where Harry indicated with his wand. Ron's jaw fell slack and Adrian blinked once.

"That's great, Harry. Really great." And he smiled proudly.

"I've been reading our new books." The green eyed boy stated as he lowered the coin on the floor and gave it to his brother.

"Mom will be glad to know at least one of us took after her!" Adrian stated laughing, causing Harry and Ron to follow suit. They were still laughing when the door opened again to reveal Draco Malfoy. There had been a mutual dislike between the Malfoy and the Potter families for years but Harry had tried to oversee it when he had first been introduced to the Malfoy heir. Unfortunately, the blond hadn't extended the same courtesy.

"The Potter twins and the weasel." He sneered flanked by two of his friends. They were much larger than the blond and as tall as Harry when he wasn't under a concealment charm. "Still unable to tell the wrong sort from the bad I see?" He asked staring at Ron.

"I think we manage just fine thank you." Harry stated calmly and to stress the discussion was, as far as he was concerned, over he picked up his spellbook and resumed reading. Or at least pretended to, waiting for the three boys to leave. That was when Draco picked the moment to not only insult Ron's family but to also order his lackeys -Crabbe and Goyle- to grab their remaining chocolate frogs. Harry just sighed and pulled out his wand again. He cast two simple yet effective leg binding spells, causing the two advancing boys to trip and fall on the floor.

"That was brilliant mate!" Ron exclaimed as Adrian hooted. Harry just stared at a dumbfounded Draco and spoke calmly.

"I'll lift the curses if you take your friends and leave, Malfoy." The blond started at him wide-eyed while the two boys on the floor waited for his decision. "Did you hear me?"

"Yes." He stated.

"Okay then." And like that he lifted the curses with a flick of his wand and Crabbe and Goyle stood up hastily and stumbled out of the compartment. "And I would appreciate it if you didn't insult my friends in the future, Malfoy." Harry added; Draco's eyes turned into slits as he huffed once again before walking away.

"You really did read ahead on our books, didn't you?" Adrian asked smiling brightly.

"Yeah I did." Harry answered shrugging.

"That was brilliant!" Ron repeated as they sat down on their seats. They only managed to exchange a few words before Hermione returned to their compartment to inform them that they were reaching Hogwarts any moment now. The boys ushered her out so they could change into their black robes, something they had barely managed to do before the announcement to leave their trunks in the train and get ready to disembark sounded from invisible speakers; Harry was fairly certain it was a charm of some sort. Severus had started teaching him how to sense enchantments, but he had only managed to get the basics before the term started. Harry took in a deep breath and descended the few steps that separated him from the platform.

"Firs' years! Firs' years this way!" Hagrid's voice sounded in the distance, calling them all to him. Here we go, Harry thought and followed the Gamekeeper's voice.

 


	18. The Beginning Of Term

Harry found himself in a boat along with his brother and Ron, following the rest of the students through the lake and towards the majestic castle in the distance; the green eyed wizard found his mind divided between excitement and terror. He repeated to himself that he had nothing to fear, quite unsuccessfully. But he'd be loath to allow his fear to stop him so he simply looked at the castle and tried to breathe. Not an easy task.

The first years were greeted by Professor McGonagall who was looking as strict as ever, her smart eyes looking over the frightened eleven year olds. She led them all to a small room down the hall. It was hard to be awed by the castle, Harry thought as he looked upwards towards the arched ceiling; no place like Hogwarts! Professor McGonagall explained what the Houses were and gave them the main idea of the Sorting Ceremony that was about to begin before leaving them to wait, with a final admonishing to straighten their clothes and look smart, as she put it, her eyes staying a bit on a smudge Ron had on his nose and Neville's cloak. Neville, who had found his toad, Trevor, by then, started to nervously fumble with his cloak while Ron rubbed his nose.

Harry himself had to fight to not fidget or try and straighten down his hair; he only managed to do so when remembering it was part of the glamour spell and any attempts on taming it wouldn't have any effect whatsoever. Not that his unruly hair could be helped otherwise. But when Minerva McGonagall gave you  _that_  look, you couldn't help but wondering if there was something you could do to straighten your clothing, or saluting her.

Professor McGonagall returned and asked them to form a line before leading them through a grand door to the Great Hall; there, seated at the four Houses' tables, were the students of the school, illuminated by the light of thousand floating candles. The sky on the enchanted ceiling was the perfect image of the night sky above and, even if Harry knew it was an enchantment, he found himself trying to locate the various constellations, the familiar action soothing his nerves a little. In the far end of the room the green eyed wizard could just discern the black clad figure of Severus Snape. He smiled slightly; whatever happened he would not be alone, not with Sev there.

He moved along with the rest of the students to be, his heart much lighter. Professor McGonagall placed an old torn hat on a stool; the Sorting Hat, Harry thought, recognizing it from both Severus's and James's descriptions. Despite his anxiousness for the sorting ceremony, Harry had quite anticipated this moment. And not one to disappoint, a mouth-like slit appeared on the front of the hat, just above the rim, and the hat started singing;

" _Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see._

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me!_

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts' Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all!_

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be_

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve and chivalry,_

_Set Gryffindor's apart._

_You might belong in Hufflepuff,_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true,_

_And unafraid of toil._

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you're a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_Those cunning folks use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm the Thinking Cap!_

As everybody applauded the hat, Harry noticed professor McGonagall stepping forward once again, this time carrying with her a scroll that was apparently the list of all the first years, as she began calling them alphabetically. In the meantime, the young wizard was pondering on the words of the Thinking Hat; if it could see anything in ones mind, wasn't it dangerous that it would tell someone? Severus, after the matter had been thoroughly discussed, had pointed out that the spell which allowed the hat to work had it bound with the school and forced it to keep its secrets. What it saw inside the students' heads was part of the school's secrets so, the very same spell that kept it from being a simple hat, bounded it to keep whatever it saw to itself. But since the Hat wasn't the one he had fear of looking into his mind and telling, he did a quick check over his Occlumency shields.

Severus had warned him that the headmaster was a master Legillimens and had taught him the basics over the summer. He was nowhere near the potions master level yet of course but he had cultivated the ability to store his thoughts separately, raise a shield strong enough to alert him if someone tried to read his mind and give him just about enough time to flee and call for help.

"Granger Hermione!" The transfiguration professor exclaimed and the bushy hair witch they had encountered in the train moved excitedly towards the hat and all but pulled it onto her head. Harry noticed Adrian and Ron share a look and then cringe when she was sorted to Gryffindor; Ron even groaned in protest. Neville was sorted in Gryffindor, Draco Malfoy at Slytherin -oh the shock! He would have begged the hat if he wasn't already cut out for the House but Harry envied him a little for he would be in the same house as Severus- and then…

"Potter, Adrian!" The professor called and whispers spread in the Great Hall.

"Did she say Potter?" One asked.

" _The_  Adrian Potter?" Someone inquired.

"That's what I heard!" Another agreed. Harry just rolled his eyes; frankly, Adrian hated the attention and he didn't want his brother to be uncomfortable in Hogwarts after dreaming of attending since before he could remember. In the meantime, Adrian had put on the Hat with a determined look; they didn't have to wait long; Gryffindor was what the Hat called before ten seconds had passed. Harry clapped harder than anyone else in the room as the table in the far left cheered. He could distinctly hear Fred and George chanting "We got Adrian! We got Adrian!"

"Potter, Harry!" McGonagall called, a small smile on her face. Harry walked with his head held high, stealing one last glance at Severus who nodded once in support. His name being called didn't cause any commotion but Harry liked it better this way. He pulled the Hat over his eyes and the Great Hall was lost from his sight.

"So the second Potter twin!" A voice whispered in his ear. "And you know some Occlumency! Quite impressive for someone your age! And now let's see what… Great Merlin!" The Hat exclaimed, quite at loss. "You, young Harry, hide more secrets than all the students I have ever had the pleasure to sort put together. And what you hide is…  _Astonishing_!"

"You won't tell, will you?" Harry thought softly, cringing inwardly.

"Even if I wasn't forced to keep what I see for myself, I would not; I see how you protect your brother young Harry and it's admirable." The Hat then paused. "But where to put you? You're more than smart and knowledgeable so Ravenclaw would fit you; you're sly enough to hide your secrets so Slytherin would do too. And loyalty is right there along with bravery and chivalry, yes. But what would be best?"

"Doesn't something stick out?" The boy wondered, interested in the conversation; after all, how could he not want to know what a magical object which's job was to look into minds for centuries had to say about him?

" _Everything_  in your mind sticks out, my dear!" The hat exclaimed. "What can I say? Is that Alchemy? Oh my boy, you know Alchemy! No matter what house you get sorted to, I'd advice you looked into the extra curricular activities the school has to offer!" The green eyed wizard mentally nodded, a soft smirk forming on his lips; this wasn't as bad as he had thought it would be. And as the hat kept deliberating and mumbling to itself about his characteristics -daring mixed with fluidity of thoughts and a certain disregard for the rules being the latest argument- Harry remembered Severus's words.

"Would it help if you looked into my heart?" He asked in the mental equivalent of a small voice. No matter what House he was fit for, he was going to be a Hatstall, he could just see it coming.

"Would you let me look into your heart, young one?" The Hat asked seriously.

"I have a lot of things to hide, but not in my heart." Harry answered decisively, feeling brave all of the sudden. The Hat chuckled.

"I can only see inside your head, but even if I  _could_  look into your heart I believe wouldn't  _need_  to. It takes great courage -the greatest courage perhaps- to allow someone entrance in your heart Harry. And since your mind fits all, your heart will find its home in…  _GRYFFINDOR_!" The hat shouted the last word and Harry smiled; so did Severus, even if ever so slightly. He quite enjoyed being right.

"Well done, bro!" Adrian offered patting his younger brother on the back once, smiling happily. The green eyed wizard smiled back; all was well -with Ron being sorted to Gryffindor too- and, at last, his time at Hogwarts could begin. He hadn't realized just how starved he was so, after the sorting was over and Dumbledore made his version of a welcoming speech, he surprised himself with pilling food on his plate and proceeding to eat every last bite, chasing it down with a slice of treacle tart and -of course- some chocolate soufflé.

The jovial atmosphere of the feast was somewhat dimmed at the grave warning from Dumbledore that the students weren't to approach the third floor corridor on the right-hand if they didn't want to die a painful death. Whispers travelled around the Great Hall once again and Harry's mind swiftly started making up scenarios of any shape and form. The only reason Dumbledore wouldn't allow students to enter a part of the school, would be if something was being guarded at Hogwarts which was, after all, the safest location in the country, beating even Gringotts. But what had to be guarded in a way that might endanger the students? What could be so important? His clouded mind barely noted that he was missing something, that there was a connection he wasn't making while he should, but he was far to tired to push further.

He just followed Percy -who had been made a prefect and was obviously proud of it- to the Gryffindor tower not needing to memorize the path there since, even if he hadn't spent so much time at the castle, the tales he had heard in the Potter manor had painted an almost perfect picture of where the lions' common room was. Harry smiled as he laid eyes on the famous painting of the Fat Lady and just stumbled in and straight to his bed. He did try and clear his mind a bit while brushing his teeth but only managed to do the basic work required for Occlumency as he felt almost ready to drop down and sleep on the floor.

The next morning Harry and Adrian received congratulatory letters from their parents and godparents for being sorted into Gryffindor –"How did they find out so soon?" Adrian had wondered out loud. Harry was sure Prongs or Padfoot had asked Dumbledore the same night of the ceremony- and the green eyed wizard had also received an unsigned note, written in a precise cursive hand he would recognize everywhere, that simply stated;

_Congratulations._

_P.S.: I told you so._

Harry stole a look towards the potions master with a smile, holding his laughter and quickly concealing the note before anyone could see it. Whispers concerning his brother followed them around all day making Adrian blush slightly but Harry was unconcerned; he simply wanted the classes to begin. As much as he wanted to help his brother, it felt good to be able to achieve something for himself and be recognized for his efforts plus, he wanted to make Severus proud.

First lesson of term was Herbology and the first years found themselves heading towards the greenhouses -specifically greenhouse one- where professor Sprout did her best to teach them how to recognize fungi and herbs. Harry, who had already covered a lot of ground in Herbology thanks to the greenhouses both in the Flamels' and Severus's castles greenhouses, was able to recognize them all and add a few extra things for their uses -nothing too much so that it wouldn't be on the book's footnotes but just enough- surprising the professor and gaining Gryffindor fifteen points all by himself. Adrian congratulated him and Hermione tried to corner him for some questioning on the extra tidbits of information he had provided and Harry had to swiftly dodge her and head towards the next class.

He was completely disappointed with his History of Magic class as professor Binns, who was a ghost, made no point to gain his students' interest. Harry tried to take notes but he soon found it to be a useless task; Severus had already taught him all there was to know -or at least all he needed to know- about goblin wars and he hadn't bored him halfway to death while doing so!

Another disappointment had been Defense Against the Dark Arts, a lesson Harry had anticipated, wanting to see how he would react in a proper duel since he wasn't up to Severus' level to have one yet. The whole classroom smelled of garlic and professor Quirrell seemed terrified of his own subject.

Charms had been an amusing lesson; they hadn't started their spellwork as of yet, but professor Flitwick had fallen off his chair -or rather the books on the chair on which he was standing on- while calling Adrian's name during roll call. Harry had to stifle his laughter as he hid behind his book while Adrian turned beet red. Astronomy had been a breeze and professor Sinistra was utterly pleased with Harry's knowledge on the subject; his classmates had been equally pleased for the points he got for Gryffindor. Hermione had gone as much as to ask him how come he wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw. Harry had just shrugged and pointed out that her statement was like the pot calling the kettle black; she had simply smiled at that and turned her attention into finding the correct path to the dormitory.

The first transfiguration lesson had been an interesting experience; Professor McGonagall made it quite clear that she would take no nonsense in her class, giving them a talking-to the moment the lesson started. She then proceeded to transform the desk into a pig and back again, making the whole class -including Harry who always loved seeing transformations- gasp. She then gave them the task to turn a match into a needle. Harry pretended reading through the theory for a few minutes while his classmates tried their hand at the incantation -mostly unsuccessfully though Adrian had already turned his match pointy- and then waved his wand confidently and transformed his match into a perfect needle. Professor McGonagall stopped her rounds around the class and approached his desk, picking up the needle and showing it to the whole class, rewarding Harry with an unusually warm smile.

"Well done, Mr. Potter." She stated regarding him with smart eyes behind her glasses. "Have you tried the spell before?" In every truth, Harry hadn't used the exact spell as Severus had started his training with turning small pebbles into buttons before advancing to more complicated incantations.

"No professor, but I have read through the theory; I've done some research with my Dad's books too." The green eyed wizard added thinking of Severus's castle's vast library.

"Ah yes." She added nodding, smiling again. "James had always had an affinity for Transformation." And, after rewarding five points to Gryffindor, she continued with her rounds. Harry smiled at Adrian who returned the gesture with a thumbs up for his gaining of points. At the end of the lesson, only Adrian had had managed to complete the transformation after Harry while Hermione had managed to turn her match halfway.

Before Harry could blink it was Friday, the day that marked their first potions lesson; it was to be with the Slytherin students but that wasn't what troubled Harry. He would now see Sev as he was at Hogwarts and he wasn't sure he liked it. The potions master had warned him that his façade was nothing like he had been used to. The green eyed boy had pointed out he had expected it but in truth he was a bit gloomy; he wished he could see Severus teach like he was meant to and mostly, he wanted the other students to see too. He made his way down to the dungeons, his mind barely registering the comments his brother and Ron made on Severus or Adrian inviting the redhead over at Hagrid's with the two of them that aftrenoon. They had just sat down, Harry and Adrian sharing the same table while Ron sat on the one right next to Adrian with Neville, when Severus burst through the door with a bang, his black cloak bellowing behind him. Suddenly, Harry understood perfectly why every student was afraid of him and smirked before he was able to help himself; boy where they in for a surprise one of these days!

Severus proceeded into explaining them exactly what they were going to do in potions and exactly what their importance was. His voice was precise and detached, lacking the warmth Harry had been used to. Still, he had captured everyone's attention easily and had caused Harry to smirk imperceptibly at the "dunderheads" comment; some things never changed. He proceeded to call out the name of the students and, just like Flitwick, he paused when reaching Adrian's name. But no comical reaction followed; he just regarded Adrian with a piercing stare, making him fidget a little, before proceeding to Harry and the rest of the class.

The green eyed wizard knew what was to come next; Severus had asked him how far into potions' material had Adrian gone and Harry had in turn asked his brother. The older Potter twin had laughed and simply stated that James didn't think potions would be necessary for his training as of yet; they had concentrated on spellwork and he had simply looked into his first year book a bit. Severus had been livid; James had let his feud slip into his son's education it seemed. What would happen if Adrian was targeted with a potion? What if he needed to produce a healing one himself? An antidote even?

And like that, it had been decided to check exactly what Adrian did know on potions; Harry had protested knowing that might weight against Severus but the potions master had just shrugged it off with a smirk, reminded him such a reaction was expected of him. Not that it make Harry like the idea more.

After he had called all the students, the potions master unexpectedly -for all the rest- turned towards the hazel eyed Potter and called his name.

"Mr. Adrian Potter." He began. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel into an infusion of wormwood?" Adrian looked lost and turned to face Ron who was equally confused. Hermione raised her hand, Draco, Crabbe and Goyle snickered while Harry stifled a sigh. This was elementary first year knowledge and for someone with Adrian's training it should be easy; obviously his brother hadn't bothered with the subject at all.

"Nothing?" Severus asked noticing the lost look on the elder Potter twin's face. Inside he was seething; he really couldn't take it out on the boy but he ought to know, at least, the basics. Maybe if he asked something from the first chapters of the book… "Let's try again. Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?" He looked at Adrian expectedly as the boy's eyes widened behind his glasses. Harry grinded his teeth together in an attempt not to groan; that was mentioned in the second chapter of the book, right after the introduction of lethal potions and ingredients. Hermione's hand was quivering at that point but Severus ignored her.

"I don't know, sir." Adrian repeated. Ron glared daggers at Severus as Draco laughed out loud.

"What is the difference between monkswood and wolfsbane?" He finally asked and Harry cringed at his brother's blank expression; now that one was mentioned on the very first paragraph of the first chapter, where it was stated that potion ingredients could be found in various countries with different name. It was the eleventh page of the book for Merlin's sake!

"I don't know. But I think Hermione does. Why don't you ask her?" Adrian stated, causing a few laughs. A sharp glare caused Hermione's hand to drop and Harry suspected that, in addition to his annoyance over Adrian's ignorance, Severus didn't tolerate other students interrupting without his permission -even if it was in the form of a quivering hand, something that Harry himself found mildly annoying.

"One point will be taken for Gryffindor for your cheekiness Mr. Potter." The potions master stated and turned to Harry. "Mr. Harry Potter." He began and Adrian's eyes turned into slits; he glanced at his brother and nodded encouragingly. Harry wanted to bang his head on the table; Severus had to show him the same treatment as he too was a Potter and that would only widen the void between the potions master and his family. Well, at least I  _can_  answer, Harry thought. "Do you think you could answer the questions I asked your brother?"

"Yes, sir." Harry stated with a nod. "Asphodel and wormwood, in combination with some more ingredients, produce a sleeping draught so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death, a potion that has gained some recognition in Muggle folklore." The green eyed boy offered. "A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons with the notable exception of those using dragon's blood. Thankfully, dragon's blood is included to only a handful of potions as it tends to purify and is thus incompatible with most of the key ingredients of deadly poisons." Harry explained, remembering what Nicholas had told him of dragon's blood. That information was widely accessible and Harry remembered seeing a copy of Dumbledore's book on the subject back at the Potter manor so he figured he could include as much. "As for monkswood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant which is mostly used for healing potions; it is also known as aconite." That should cover it, Harry thought. Adrian was beaming at him and Harry smiled back timidly. His eyes caught Seamus' who winked and then Hermione's who looked at him astonished.

"Well, why aren't you writing that down?" Severus asked smiling inside with pride; he made a mental note to award five points to Gryffindor when he would be alone in his office. The rest of the lesson flowed easily, for the Slytherins that is. Harry was caught between laughing out loud and blaming himself for what Severus was going through… Maybe if it hadn't been for himself the potions master wouldn't have to try so hard, the boy thought as he stopped Neville, with whom he was paired with, before melting the cauldron on which they were working on. Neville thanked him soundlessly as Severus passed them by; the boy seemed to shrink at the potions master's presence. The potions master in question had caught Harry's expression and figured he would have to speak to the boy; he was terrified of what Harry would think of him after the lesson and his worst fears seemed to have come true.

The afternoon passed in a blur, Harry being stirred out of his self-imposed guilt only by the rocks Hagrid called cakes, and the three boys found themselves back to Gryffindor common room. The green eyed boy went to fetch his book on sigils -disguised as a copy of the first year Transformation book- as he did every night when his eyes fell on his owl; Hedwig was surprisingly perched on the left corner of his four poster bed, a letter tied on her leg. The note was simple and short;

" _Meet me at my office tonight; use the cloak. We have to talk."_

Harry wondered what could be the problem, his mind immediately jumping to the worst scenario; had Severus realized how much easier his life would be if he didn't have to pretend for his sake? He gulped and retrieved his book, burning the note with a quick  _Incedio_. As interesting sigils were, he had no chance concentrating, his mind flying to the appointment he had later that night. He waited patiently for the whole house to fall asleep, making a show of going to bed himself; he remained wide awake until well after midnight before retrieving the invisibility cloak from his brother's trunk and heading for the dungeons, leaving an utterly confused Fat Lady behind. He practically ran down the Grand Staircase but, once he reached Severus's office, he froze. Now you're just being silly, he accused himself and knocked once before entering. Severus was there, seating on his armchair, the glamour spells lifted. Harry swiftly followed his example and entered the room, taking off his cloak.

"Hey, Sev." Harry started lightly, his eyes meeting Severus's and then widening in surprise; he expected to find annoyance, maybe some guilt, but not worry.

"Harry." Severus stated and motioned him to sit down. "I'm going to cut straight to the subject." The potions master started releasing a breath he had been holding; from all the ways he had though for getting what he wanted to say out, addressing it directly seemed the best way; he was never one to beat around the bush anyway.

"Sure, Sev." Harry said, confused now more than anything else.

"I know we have already talked about this still I couldn't help but notice how you reacted during your potions lesson this morning; Harry you know that's not really me right? It's just a mask I have to wear." Severus explained in on breath. "I want you to remember that." To his surprise, Harry laughed. "What?" The potions master asked confused himself while the boy laughed even harder.

"That's it?" Harry asked wiping his eyes. He still wasn't sure if his tears were from laughing so hard or from pure relief; probably it was both.

"What more is there?" Severus asked and the concentrated on the boy. "What did you think I was going to say?"

"That you're tired of wearing said mask and you blame me for ruining your life." Harry stated lightly while Severus's jaw dropped.  _He thought what?_

"What?" he asked incredulously. Severus closed his eyes and massaged his temples slowly. "Haven't I told you not to stand right above your cauldron when your potions are boiling? The fumes are bad for you." Harry laughed some more.

"I'll try to avoid them in the future, Sev." The boy promised.

"But seriously, Harry." The potions master stated opening his eyes and moving closer to the boy; he placed his hands on Harry's shoulders and looked straight into his eyes. "How can you think you've ruined my life, kid? I would have to wear this mask whether it was for you or just to be ready for when Voldemort returns; it's a result of a choice I made before you were born and the burden is mine alone to bear." He explained. "I want you to remember Harry, that you are the only reason I'm there behind that mask. Because before you, I  _was_  the mask; I was cold and lost and didn't give a knut for what would happen to me; you brought me back, kid. And for than, I thank you." Harry smiled and hugged the potions master.

"It wasn't that bad, the lesson I mean." Harry admitted. "I was trying not to laugh thinking of their expressions if they knew how you really are though." The boy smirked.

"I imagine that often myself." Severus admitted with a chuckle.

"And Dad?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"You might have to wear that mask but you're not alone, okay?" He asked softly earning himself another hug.

"Thank you, Harry." Severus offered. The silence was complete for a hew moments until Harry exclaimed;

"I just can't believe how much Adrian is missing from his training!" Harry said agitated, his fear over his brother's survival returning; he didn't want to remind himself often, but he knew -deep down he was certain- that Voldemort would return one day. It was difficult to consider and it was just as damn unfair as it was definite. And when he did, Adrian would be a target; maybe the prime target if Voldemort hadn't realized his mistake, something quite possible since he had gone into hiding, completely disconnected from the world who had hailed Adrian Potter the boy who lived.

"I know." Severus stated grimly. He sighed. "But there is nothing we can do for now; just try to nudge him a bit towards the right direction; he has to improve." Severus stated and then smiled. "And speaking of studying, how's your transformation going?" Harry smiled.

"I haven't made a huge progress." He stated and brought his hand forward. "But I can do this." And as he spoke, his hand was covered in black fur while his nails became longer and wolf-like.

"That is some progress." Severus said smiling proudly.

"And you?" The boy asked and the potions master smirked, as he transformed his hand halfway between a paw and a human hand, his progress more obvious than Harry's.

"Brilliant!" Harry exclaimed as Severus smirked.

"I know." He stated with a self-satisfied air.

"Oh you think you're so smart, don't you?" Harry asked feigning an exasperated sigh.

"I think I'm adorable." Severus stated seriously, sending both of them in a new fit of laughter. They spoke for an hour or so, Harry explaining just what had happened during his first week and Severus informing him of how the school's staff had praised him during the beginning of the year meeting.

"They did?" Harry asked, his eyes shining.

"Of course they did, kid!" Severus stated, tussling the boy's hair.

"I wish you wouldn't do that." He stated, trying in vain to straighten his hair.

"Keep wishing, Harry." Severus offered; it was sometime after three that Harry finally slid out of the office, his glamour charms back in place and his father's cloak hiding him from prying eyes.

 


	19. There's A What In The Dungeons?

The second week of school started as good as the first one had, with the anxiousness somehow abated. Harry had joyfully discovered that his studies allowed him to finish his homework in record time and that in turn gave him time to spend in the library where, while pretending he was reading on first year material, he was progressing with his personal studies. At night he concentrated on his animagus transformation, having it made the target for September to be able to transform his hand into a paw completely. Maybe even start with the rest of his arm.

He was reading on some counter-offensive spells -the book disguised as his charms textbook- and had just taken a note on one that was supposed to stop you mid-fall, a charm that was often used, in a slightly varied form, in broomstick making, when his brother entered the library. Harry made a mental note to read more on the spell after devoting his attention to his brother. Even if he wasn't furious, Adrian entering the library voluntarily was always a bad sign.

"I don't believe it!" The hazel eyed Potter exclaimed.

"You don't believe what exactly?" Harry asked confused.

"Our flying lesson!"

"What about it?" Harry asked his curiosity piqued. He had been looking forward to that lesson himself.

"It will be a double lesson with the Slytherins!" Adrian exclaimed. Harry sighed in relief.

"I though it was canceled by the way you acted!" The green eyed wizard admitted smiling.

"The Slytherins, Harry!" Adrian pressed on. "Just what I needed! Malfoy to ruin our first flying lesson." Harry regarded him thoughtfully; in truth, Malfoy had been quite annoying with telling everyone willing to listen -or not, it didn't seem to matter- how talented he was at Quidditch.

"Just don't pay attention to him, Adrian, and you'll be fine." Even if his brother, Draco Malfoy and broomsticks painted a rather scary picture in his mind, he wasn't about to share his thoughts on the subject with Adrian.

"He'll do something to ruin the lesson, Harry!" Adrian complained. "I'm sure." Harry too felt it was possible but opted on being an optimist.

"Let's just enjoy the lesson and see what happens from there." And he gathered his book to lead his brother out of the library as Miss Pins was giving them a very annoyed glare from behind her desk. The next morning, the day of their first flying lesson, Neville received a Remebrall from his grandmother. A rare object indeed although Harry doubted its usefulness; what good would it do you to remember you had forgotten something if you couldn't tell  _what_  it was? Malfoy seemed just as interested in the Remebrall, as he snatched it from Neville only to be forced to return it with the appearance of professor McGonagall.

The talk then reverted back to Quidditch tactics after that and last summer's finals of the Quidditch World Cup held in Peru. Harry smiled inwardly; Severus and himself had been in every single game, leaving the country under their usual alias. Adrian had wanted to go like crazy, and so had Ron for that matter, but it was deemed impossible as they couldn't just stay in Peru for a month. Severus and Harry hadn't needed to, even if they  _did_  spend a couple of weeks there visiting the sights; apparently, when you had the ability to make portkeys -even ones of the slightly illegal variety- you could just go back and forth as you pleased, when you pleased. Spain had been hailed the winner of the World Cup, which was to be held in Britain next. The three boys quickly finished their breakfast and headed for the grounds were Madame Hooch, a woman with short gray hair and vivid yellow eyes, like those of a hawk, was waiting.

She gave them am introductory speech about how they should handle their brooms and the basics of flying, while Harry amused himself with wondering if next year he could apply for the Seeker position in the Gryffindor team; it was common knowledge that the younger years' students weren't usually picked for the team but Harry -if he said so himself- believed he had a fair chance. Besides, the Gryffindor team was kind of desperate for a good Seeker as they had been finishing last since Ron's brother Charlie had left the school. Madame Hooch gave the signal and Harry ordered his broom to move.

"Up!" And the broom, even if it was an old model -a Comet 36, Harry wondered. That thing belongs in a museum!- flew straight into his extended right hand. It was one of the few that did and Harry's mind went back into his first horse ridding lesson, when Severus had explained that horses could sense the fear of their riders. Could broomsticks do the same, Harry wondered interested as he mounted his broom and waited for Madame Hooch to count down. Apparently, Neville didn't as he kicked down a bit too early and his broom flew up and out of control. Harry winced sympathetically as he crashed into the ground. A broken wrist was Madame Hooch's verdict, as she led Neville to the infirmary, alerting anyone who felt tempted to take a flight in her absence to the dangers of expulsion. Again apparently, Draco didn't care.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

"Shut up Malfoy!" Adrian exclaimed, his temperament flaring. His reaction didn't exactly foreshadow a nice and quiet resolving of the situation, Harry imagined sarcastically, inwardly cursing Malfoy for provoking his brother.

"Yeah, shut up, Malfoy!" Parvati agreed, taking Adrian's side immediately.

"Saint Potter and look! Neville's got a girlfriend!" Pansy Parkinson, a Slytherin student, with a face slightly reminding Harry of a picture of he had once seen of his Aunt's Marge favorite bulldog, exclaimed. "I never thought  _you'd_  like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

"Look!" Said Malfoy, snatching something shiny from the grass. Oh no… "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him!"

"Don't touch that, you git!" Adrian exclaimed forcefully, moving forward, ready to strike, Seamus and Ron -the later halfheartedly- holding him back. Everybody stopped whatever they were doing to watch the exchange.

"Make me!" Draco deadpanned smirking. Harry started getting angry; not just because Draco was about to get in trouble but for Neville too; the boy was having enough trouble adapting and fitting in as it was. He didn't need something like this going on behind his back.  _Especially_  not while he was injured.

"Give it here, Malfoy." Harry stated calmly, the bantering stopping as his voice echoed, surprisingly commanding. Malfoy smirked once again.

"I think I'll put it somewhere for Longbottom to find -how about- up a tree?" And he took off on his broom, Remembrall clutched in his hand. He did fly quite well, Harry admitted as he watched Draco steadily gain height.

"Give it back you!" Adrian yelled and tried to get on his broom as Hermione blocked his way, telling him that he could be expelled.

"Come and get it, Potter!" Malfoy taunted him and Adrian moved to mount his broom; Harry sighed and made his decision; he took off himself. After all, Draco hadn't specified  _which_  Potter and besides, he had quite reeled the younger Potter twin up. He had no right to torment Neville just because he thought him unimportant. No right at all.

"Harry!" Adrian called from the ground, having frozen mid-step at his brother's dare. Looking back, the green eyed wizard realized that Adrian had never seen him fly before. He flew higher with a sharp tug on his broom, reaching a stunned Malfoy in no time as his classmates gasped.

"Give it here," he started calmly "or I'll knock you off that broom."

"Oh really?" Malfoy asked, not sounding so certain of himself anymore. Harry smirked and sped off towards Malfoy, flying so close around him that the blond boy had to grip his broomstick tight in fear.

"Really." He offered smiling serenely, facing Malfoy once again; the Slytherin's already pale face had turned into an ashen colour. "Have you forgoten what happened in the train already, Malfoy?"

"Catch it if you can then!" Draco stuttered and threw the Remembrall as far away as he could; Harry's trained eyes watched it first rise and then fall towards the ground, as if in slow motion; he leaned towards his broom and sped straight after it. And there, just a few inches over the green grass; he caught it effortlessly and flew back to his cheering classmates. He had just dismounted his broom, his brother and the majority of the students staring at him in awe when he heard it.

"Harry Potter!" The unmistakable voice of Minerva McGonagall echoed in the abrupt silence. Just my luck, Harry thought and turned to face his doom. Between protests from his brother and classmates and murmurs of "How dare you? It could have been your neck!" from the Transfiguration professor, the green eyed wizard allowed himself to led back to the castle and surprisingly towards the Charms classroom?

"Excuse me Professor, but this isn't the way to your office; where are we going?" Harry asked, his curiosity overcoming his fear; it wasn't that he feared expulsion as he knew he hadn't done anything to warrant it, but he  _had_  promised Severus to do his beast and he was loathe to break that promise.

"To get Wood." She stated simply. Wood? Harry asked himself. What was  _wood_  exactly? Wait a minute! He gasped in shock as it all clicked inside his mind as Professor McGonagall knocked on the door. Wood was the captain of Gryffindor's Quidditch team! And in truth, a burly fifth year was called from his class, wearing a mask of pure surprise on his face as McGonagall introduced them after leading them into an empty classroom and unceremoniously ousting Peeves from it.

"Potter this is Oliver Wood. Wood -I have found you a Seeker!" Harry's mouth dropped and he stared at the professor stunned. A what? Oliver's expression was the same, if not worse, but soon turned into giddiness as McGonagall explained him what had happened.

"Have you ever played Quidditch before, Potter?" Oliver asked, looking as if Christmas had come early.

"I've only flown a little over the summer, but I've never played an actual game." And that was in a way true, as two people couldn't play a normal game of Quidditch.

"And he has the built for a Seeker too!" Oliver exclaimed, tears in his eyes. Harry held back a smirk; no, he didn't have the built for a seeker, actually being taller than most boys his age. Not that they could see that. But he was in a peak physical condition and he was agile; he knew he would do more than fine. It was soon resolved that Harry would be the Seeker for the Gryffindor team -after promising to train hard- something which earned a grin from McGonagall; the professor stated that his father would be thrilled once he found out. Harry vaguely remembered how Prongs had mentioned that Sirius and himself had tried for months to get into the Quidditch team while on their first year. He ventured to the Great Hall with a smile a mile wide; this was going to be fun!

"You're  _joking_!" Ron exclaimed stopping mid-bite as Adrian's eyes widened behind his glasses.

"Nope!" Harry offered with a smile, filling his plate with anything he could find, his appetite having doubled.

"A  _Seeker_?" Adrian asked in a muffled voice; the older twin himself had aspirations to become a Chaser for the team later on. But they were still first years!

"Yep!" Harry offered taking a bite of some kidney pie.

"But the first years never… You must be the youngest House player in about…" Ron tried to think back.

"A century." Harry stated after swallowing. "Wood told me."

"Wow!" The two boys exclaimed.

"I know!" Harry said happily, his eyes turning towards the staff's table where McGonagall was talking to Severus. The potions master's eyes widened as he turned towards Harry, his face otherwise a stone mask. Nobody in the Great Hall had a way of knowing that inside his head he was doing a victory dance! Harry smiled and turned his attention back to his brother and his friend. "I start training next week." Harry explained. "Only don't tell anyone. Wood wants to keep it a secret." That was when Fred and George decided to snoop in and congratulate him, Wood having already told them as they were on the team. So much for secrecy…

"But we can write about it to mom and dad, right?" Adrian asked, his eyes gleaming.

"Yes, of course." Harry stated smiling. "Imagining Sirius's face, aren't you, brother?" Adrian broke out laughing and Harry soon followed suit. The green eyed wizard had just asked Lee Jordan to pass him the mashed potatoes when he noticed Draco's self-satisfied smirk from the Slytherin table being addressed to his brother. Weird that, he thought; he turned to his twin and show him exchange a fiery glare with the blond. Did I miss something? The boy wondered before being distracted by Seamus who wanted to know if he was alright and how exactly had he managed to not get himself expelled. That's when he caught the death glare of one Hermione Granger, also focused on his brother and Ron, and figured he had  _definitely_  missed something. He tried to press the matter further but it was time for their first class of the afternoon and the three boys made their way to Charms, Ron and Adrian keeping the conversation strictly to Quidditch.

The lesson itself had been fun, as they had started with little charms that Harry could perform since he was seven, something that easily gained him points for his House. At the end of class, Professor Flitwick winked at him conspiratorily and Harry figured that the only one who  _wasn't_ spreading the news of his position in the Gryffindor team was, in fact, himself. As things were, Harry hadn't managed to breach the subject of one death glare too many with his brother. He and Ron had gone to bed early, whispering in hushed tones all day, and Harry had followed suit after finishing his extracurricular studies. He was seated on his bed, the curtains shut tight around him and locked in place with a quick charm as he was trying out his animagus transformation, when he heard Ron whisper.

"Half-past eleven. We'd better go." What? Go where?

"Ready!" Adrian whispered back. For what?

"Don't you think we should tell your brother too?" Ron asked as Harry listened to them getting ready to leave the room.

"No." Adrian stated. "He's a great student but he hasn't been through the same dueling training I have. I just don't want him to get in trouble." He sounded sincere and that scared Harry the most; what was he going to do? The two boys snuffled out the room and Harry moved instantly once they did, drawing the curtains closed again as if he was still inside his bed after he left it; it never hurt to be cautious. He would have gone after them in a second if he hadn't stopped for the obvious; he hadn't heard any sound of a trunk opening. Could it be that… yes, it was, he thought miffed as he pulled the invisibility cloak from his brother's trunk. Damn it all! If Adrian  _had_  to get out of the common room in the middle of the night, couldn't he just take the cloak with him? That's what it was for, after all!

Harry threw the cloak over his shoulders and covered himself up completely; there was no way he would leave Adrian on his own out there! He was fully planning on giving his older brother a piece of his mind when he heard murmurs from downstairs. It was Hermione, who was apparently berating his brother and Ron, sounding very much like she knew what she was talking about. So, Hermione could know what was going on, but  _he_ couldn't? That stung a little.

"Why don't you bother about your own business?" Adrian hissed at her as they moved out of the common room, Harry right behind them. Hermione warned them on not loosing the points she had won from Professor McGonagall and turned to leave, only to realize the Fat Lady had gone out for a late night visit. And to make things better, Neville was discovered sleeping outside the door, having forgotten the password. Harry was busy pulling out his hair at their complete bad luck as the round faced boy -thankfully healed from what he could see, not that a sprained wrist was something Madame Pomfrey would have a problem with- tagged along. Harry followed them silently, trying to gather what they were doing from their conversation. It had something to do with Malfoy and the Trophy Room -as that's where they were heading- and immediately Harry felt his heart constricting. His brother and three classmates fully planned to stay put in the room, waiting for Malfoy; and what about Filtch? He was known to pass by said room at least once every hour. He was just about to give them a piece of his mind when Hermione spoke again.

"We should go." She said being the voice of reason. "Filtch might be here soon."

"We're here for a duel, Hermione!" Adrian exclaimed. "We can't just back away! It's a matter of honor!" Harry felt like running head first into a wall. As if Malfoy would keep his word!

"Yeah!" Ron supported him. "It's also a matter of family pride; Adrian can't back down from an issued challenge!" Hermione looked as much annoyed as Harry felt, while Neville looked at Adrian in awe. What challenge? An underage wizard couldn't accept or issue a formal wizards' duel without parental consent! Surely Adrian would know that! Now Harry was  _certain_  Malfoy wouldn't show up and his fears were confirmed once he heard Filtch talking to Miss Norris outside the room. Five sets of eyes widened and the four broke into a mad rush, Harry following close behind; Adrian urged them through a hidden passage behind a tapestry that led just outside the Charms classroom. Swift thinking; Harry inwardly praised his brother for at least that. Only if he would employ his wit more often…

That was when Neville decided to start running in the complete darkness and promptly sent Ron and himself tumbling into an armor, effectively alerting Peeves; to make things better, Ron decided to take a shot at the ghost, right about when Adrian had him half-convinced to let them go. Panicking at the sound of Flitch approaching due to Peeves's yelling of " _Students out of bed! Students out of bed in the Charms corridor!_ ", said students run away madly. We seem to be doing that a lot tonight, the green eyed wizard thought sarcastically. And here I was, figuring I wouldn't get enough physical training in Hogwarts and… His thoughts were abruptly halted once he realized exactly where they were heading to.

Oh no! Harry begged as they reached a locked door which Hermione swiftly unlocked with an  _Alohamora_  spell. Harry's mouth dropped as he followed them inside; the only protection placed on the door of the Forbidden Corridor was a locking charm? He listened a little to Peeves taunting Filtch outside when his attention zeroed into more important matters. He just stood there and looked stunned at a huge three headed dog guarding the corridor; so a locking charm wasn't the only protection there; good to know! The four other students swiftly become alert of said Cerberus -that was the name of the dog's race if Harry remembered correctly- and turned to leave immediately, but not before the green eyed boy -having been trained to hone his observation skills through the years with Severus- noticed a trapdoor beneath the dog's immense paws. He didn't hang around to solve that riddle as he opted to follow his brother out the room, judging that was the best idea Adrian had had the whole night.

They returned straight into the common room where the Fat Lady had returned from her night stroll and flew into their beds after Hermione told them about the trapdoor and thoroughly berated them on how they could have all be expelled. Talk about prioritizing, Harry thought sarcastically as he ran upstairs first beforeshe completed her rant, swiftly staffing the cloak in Adrian's trunk and diving into his bed. Adrian and Ron talked of the dog all night long as Harry tried to figure the whole thing out himself. So the dog was guarding something; Harry had to admit, a Cerberus was the ideal creature -after a griffon- to guard something valuable. His mind flew back to the attempted theft in Gringotts; Hagrid had said something about it hadn't he? Now that he could recall that evening without the fear of Severus being mad at him, he could clearly distinct Hagrid's attempts to avoid the subject altogether.

Adrian had seen Hagrid exiting Gringotts on the day they had gone shopping and had asked about what he was doing there, hadn't he? And Hagrid had just changed the subject and had talked about something else -something as obnoxious as the weather? Harry had trouble recalling something he hadn't bothered paying attention to- immediately.

Anyone who knew Hagrid could tell you what a terrible liar he was, so his reaction could only mean he had something to hide. And that Cerberus had his name all over it! But what could be so important that had to stay hidden at Hogwarts? Well, the castle was the safest building in the country. Nicholas had once said that… Nicholas! Harry's eyes widened in shock as he thought back to his mentor's unease during the summer and Severus's cryptic words that he would find out why on his own. Combine that with the fact that Severus had promised someone else than Nicholas his silence and that the alchemist was a great friend of Dumbledore's and presto! So whatever it was guarded in Hogwarts was Nicholas's possession. Problem was, Harry thought gulping uneasily, that there was only one object he could think of being hidden in the school that Nicholas wouldn't trust in the safety of his own castle.

He had to talk to Severus as soon as possible Harry figured and tried to get some sleep; the mere notion that the Philosopher's Stone could be hidden in the school was unnerving enough without taking into consideration the reasons why such a move was deemed necessary. Needless to say, sleep eluded him that nigh; it was a tired Harry, sporting a terrible headache that rose from his bed at the crack of dawn.

The green eyed wizard didn't get the chance to reach Severus until a little before breakfast the next morning. He had tried to get his brother to talk to him about last night first, but Adrian was lost in a vivid conversation with Ron; they stopped talking when Harry or anybody else approached them, but the green eyed boy had fleetingly caught the word  _trapdoor_. Resigned that they wouldn't tell him anything, he left the Great Hall early, claiming he had to send a letter to their parents on his new Seeker position before Herbology and headed for the grounds, making a swift turn after leaving the hall to the dungeons.

He didn't have to wait long as, after a few minutes, Severus appeared in the corner, heading for his office. His eyes brightened as he saw Harry but he refrained from a verbal acknowledgement until they entered his office. When the door was closed, he turned at the boy and smiled.

"So, a Seeker in your first year?" The potions master chuckled.

"Yep!" Harry stated with a smile. "You should have seen Professor McGonagall when she announced Wood I would be the next Seeker. She was glowing!"

"And she was unbelievably smug when she announced the Quidditch Cup will be at her desk by the end of this year." Severus agreed, his eyes widening as if he had only just realized something of the greatest importance. "I've been training the opposition!" He exclaimed mock appalled.

"And quite well I might add!" Harry offered laughing. He quickly sobered up as he remembered the reason why he had come over. "But that's not the reason why I'm here." And he went on explaining what exactly had happened last night. Severus regarded him with a half confused and half horrified expression; he couldn't believe Harry had stood in the same room as that -solely for the lack of a more appropriate word- dog!

"And Adrian didn't take the cloak with him?" He asked sitting on the corner of his desk as the boy paced the room.

"No!" Harry exclaimed. "And what was he  _thinking_  accepting a duel from Malfoy? It wasn't even official!" Severus nodded as he thought of what had transgressed last night. Unfortunately, there was no way he could punish Malfoy for what he had done without evidence or without incriminating Harry in the process.

"And I'm not too happy that you followed them. The incident with Fluffy is also something I would prefer you had avoided." Severus added sternly.

" _Fluffy?_ " Harry wondered out loud. "The Cerberus is called  _Fluffy?_  Who names a Cerberus…" He instantly thought of Hagrid and sighed. "Never mind." The potions master smiled slightly besides himself.

"And you noticed the trapdoor, didn't you?" Severus asked impressed.

"So did Hermione." Harry stated shrugging it off.

"So, any ideas on the subject?" Severus asked expectantly.

"A question actually." Harry clarified with a smirk.

"Let's hear it then."

"Who's after the Philosopher's Stone that managed to terrify Nicholas enough to hide it in Hogwarts?" Severus laughed at the blasé tone Harry had used to ask the question, a perfect imitation of himself while trying to mask his emotions on his most agitated state.

"It took you long enough." Severus offered. "I thought that you would have made the connection when that article on the almost theft got published in the Prophet." Harry sighed.

"I was distracted." He admitted theatrically.

"I should imagine." Severus stated. "And as for your question, well, think this through; can't you think of anyone that would want his life restored and is desperate enough -and capable- to break into Gringotts?" The green eyed boy sobered up in a moment, blanching slightly.

"Voldemort?" Severus nodded grimly.

"Of course it's just a speculation, as Dumbledore last informed me he was still hiding in some corner of the world but my bet's on him." The potions master affirmed as Harry sat down on a chair disheartened.

"Do you think he'll come after Adrian?" Harry asked after a long pause. He looked terrified of the prospect; his brother was far more advanced than his classmates -with the notable exception of his twin- but he was nowhere near ready to stand his ground against a Death Eater, let alone a wizard of Voldemort's caliber.

"I think it's a possibility." Severus said thoughtful. "But unless Adrian actively seeks him out, he won't try anything before restoring his body and that's the worst case scenario." Harry nodded in understanding. It was somewhat of a relief, as the Stone was well guarded.

"Do you think he might get a chance to go anywhere near the Stone?" Harry asked deep in thought; the prospect was simply too much to handle.

"If he gets inside help." Severus answered in the same tone.

"Inside help?" The green eyed wizard wondered. "A teacher?"

"Yes." They pondered the possibilities for a while until Severus noticed the clock and the fact that Harry had exactly fifteen minutes to get to the Greenhouses. They bid each other goodbye and parted ways with the promise to speak again on Friday night. From that point on September flew by like a breeze swiftly followed by October; caught between his lessons, his animagus transformation, his additional studies, Quidditch practice and worrying about Voldemort, it was Halloween before Harry could blink.

The past two months he had received a new Nimbus 2000 and a two long congratulatory letters -one from his parents and one from an overexcited Sirius, all promising to come and see his first game- he had had a breakthrough in his study of sigils and had managed to transform most parts of his body into his wolf form; Severus was quite certain that by Christmas he would succeed completely. And to top all that, Voldemort hadn't made a single move; so, it was no surprise Harry was in such a good mood as he walked towards the first class of the day of the great Halloween fest. Harry entered the Charms classroom and greeted professor Flitwick as he moved to sit down. He had been paired with Neville for the lesson, not wanting him to feel left out after Adrian swiftly avoided him and sat next to Seamus. Ron had been paired with Hermione to both their mortification.

"Good evening class!" Professor Flitwick started in his characteristic voice. "Today we'll start working on levitating charms, specifically the _Wingardium Leviosa_." A joyful murmur spread in the room; it was no secret that they had expected this lesson ever since Professor Flitwick had made Trevor, Neville's toad, fly around the room. "Now can anyone tell me why mastering this spell is crucial for your future education?" The Charms professor asked; Hermione's face showed great concentration and Harry knew she was trying to remember where the reason had been stated in their textbook; it hadn't been. It was just part of the general Charms theory. Harry smiled inwardly at her disgruntled expression when he raised his hand. "Mr. Potter!" The tiny professor exclaimed with a please smile.

"It's not the spell itself that we need to master; it's the wand movement." Harry explained as Flitwick nodded in agreement smiling. "It's a wand movement on which many spells, even advanced ones, are based. The  _Wingardium Leviosa_  charm requires the same wand movement but not the same amount of magic needed for the more advanced charms."

"Excellent Mr. Potter!" Flitwick exclaimed clapping once. "Three points to Gryffindor! Now, as Mr. Potter said, remember the wand movement we learned…" And he went on explaining what they should do exactly. Harry levitated the feather he and Neville where practicing with, getting another praise from the Charms professor, he then tried to explain Neville how to cast the spell too when a loud banging sound cut his explanation short; Seamus had set the feather he and Adrian were working with on fire, and Adrian was trying to put out the flames with his hat. At the same time, an irritated Ron tried and failed -waving his wand completely wrong- to perform the spell. Hermione tried to correct him, he seemed to get angrier and then she proceeded to show him just what he had done wrong, casting the spell. Ron just sulked as Hermione was congratulated for her efforts and Harry returned to helping Neville. When the lesson was over he followed his brother out, approaching him just in time to hear Ron, who was talking to Adrian about Hermione, declare;

"It's no wonder no one can stand her, she's a nightmare honestly!" Adrian didn't have time to reply as a girl with very recognizable bushy hair that was quite obviously crying, passed them by.

"I think she heard you." Adrian commented.

"Nice going there mate!" Harry excalimed sarcastically.

"What?" Ron complained. "She must've noticed she's got no friends!" The redhead concluded. Harry just sighed and simply moved towards the Great Hall. He paused as he thought about the situation a bit better and turned towards Ron.

"You should apologize when you see her next.' He told him, only to be rewarded with a rather nasty look.

"Why? She was being such a know-it-all and she…"

"Tried to help you?" Harry asked, cocking and eyebrow. "Albeit she did it in a slightly high and mighty way but she meant well and you know it." The green eyed boy commented as Ron deflated and blushed.

"He got you there mate." Adrian agreed.

"Fine, fine." Ron grumbled under his breath. "I'll bloody tell her I'm sorry when I see her next." He didn't seem too pleased with the situation though.

"Just remember; a stiff apology is a second insult. The injured party does not want to be compensated because they have been wronged; they want to be healed because they have been hurt." Harry offered with a smirk and walked to the fest leaving a gaping Ron and a half amused, half confused Adrian behind; ah, the joys of a well-rounded education... He would have to thank Severus later.

The Great Hall was decorated magnificently for the occasion, thousands of live bats flying overhead, making the candles' flames twinkle; Harry smiled as he walked to the Gryffindor table. His good mood was somehow dampened -somehow being quite a lot- from Parvati's admittance that Hermione had locked herself in the dungeons' girls lavatory crying. Harry had noticed she had been absent from the lessons that day and, though he had been worried, he had hoped she would have come around by the time of the feast. To his merit, Ron looked ashamed. Harry was just about to ask him to go found her and work things out, when a terrified Quirell entered the Great Hall.

"Troll -in the dungeons- I thought you ought to know." He stated as he reached Dumbledore's chair before promptly tumbling to the floor in a dead faint. The school actually started to clap as Harry's face turned ashen, Severus was looking at Quirell enraged and the green eyed boy could only guess why; but Quirell? Could it be him that was helping Voldemort? The Headmaster ordered the students to be accompanied to their common rooms and Harry reluctantly followed Percy, having half a mind to go to the forbidden corridor -he suspected Sev would cover that front- when it hit him; Hermione… dungeon… troll. Goblins' gold! He swiftly turned around, just in time to see Ron and his brother heading for the dungeons themselves. Now he  _really_  would have to hurry.

He practically flew down the stairs, his heart beating hard inside his chest, his wand withdrawn. He took a sharp turn left and then jumped back behind the corner; Adrian and Ron were near the girls' lavatory door and his blood ran cold when he noticed the troll was in there too. Hermione was in danger! And then his blood turned to ice as his brother and Ron locked her in with the troll. They turned to leave before Hermione's scream brought them to their senses; the two boys swiftly returned, unlocked the door and entered the bathroom, almost giving Harry a heart attack in the process.

He approached the room in a dead sprint and found himself looking at a terrified Hermione shrinking under a sink, Ron and Adrian taunting the troll and throwing stuff at it and the bathroom itself in various stages of destruction, the stench coming from the creature surrounding the debris. The troll was hiding him from the two boys while Hermione's eyes were closed. Without stopping to think, he pointed his wand at the twelve feet tall creature and sent a powerful curse against it, strong enough to break through the creature's magic resistant skin, possibly breaking one of its legs, at the same time when Adrian waved his wand to send a weak stupefy at it.

The troll tumbled and fell with a loud  _thumb_ , in pain but still alive; Harry half hid behind the door -not that the present occupants of the bathroom were paying any attention- as Ron flicked his wand making the troll's club take flight and hit the creature on the head, knocking it out. The green eyed boy sighed in relief; suddenly he could hear voices and footsteps in the distance now that the yelling and growling had stopped. It was just a second before a group of teachers -Dumbledore included- appeared that he managed to duck behind an armor. Professor McGonagall was the first to speak, chewing Adrian and Ron out before Hermione jumped to their rescue, taking the blame all on herself. Points were subtracted and awarded when Dumbledore's voice interrupted.

"The troll's leg seems to be broken; by a curse nonetheless." Harry could practically hear his eyes twinkling in his voice; the Headmaster was extremely pleased.

"Broken?" Professor Sinistra asked. "But it would take a great deal of magic for a spell to get through the skin of a troll!" The silence was broken by Hermione's timid voice.

"Adrian hit the troll with a  _Stupefy_." She offered and a round of gasps echoed to where Harry was hiding.

"Quite extraordinary, if I may say so myself. " Albus said chuckling and Harry itched to follow his example; so they thought that Adrian had knocked down the troll? At least  _something_  had gone well that night! A great deal of explaining he didn't want to do would have been required otherwise. The three students were escorted back to the Gryffindor tower, passing by Harry, never guessing he was hidden there. Harry followed them from behind, hiding in the shadows; once they reached the third floor they were met with the sight of one Severus Snape -thank Merlin, Harry thought- walking towards the group where he was swiftly informed of what had happened. When they started to move again, he turned towards Harry's general direction and whispered with a smile;

"Nicely done Harry. Nicely done indeed!" And then he joined the rest of the teachers, leaving a proudly smiling Harry in his wake. It was only then, as the potions master's black cloak bellowed when he turned around, that the green eyed boy noticed Severus' pants -almost the complete right leg from the knee down- was torn into shreds.

 


	20. Quidditch

Harry had snooped back into his room that night while the rest of the common room ate -a courtesy of Hogwarts' house elves as their feast had been somewhat interrupted- only to descend the stairs a while later, making certain he would be seen doing so and putting up his best shocked face when his brother explained what had happened. Or rather, what  _he_  thought had happened.

"You know Mom is going to skin you alive for this stunt, right?" Harry asked cocking an eyebrow. Adrian blanched and Harry chuckled, the fact that his brother was alive and well while he could have been killed by that troll finally seeping into his heart. He pulled Adrian into a hug; promising yet again he would look out for his accident prone brother.

"But Prongs and Sirius, after they get over the initial shock mind you, will be proud. Might even get you a present." Adrian laughed too and patted his brother's back. "And I think knocking down a full grown troll is  _wicked_!" Harry stated, unable to help himself; it  _was_  wicked if he was allowed to say so himself, thank you very much!

"Thanks bro!" Adrian exclaimed and looked over the food. Harry laughed again.

"You three better grab something to eat; you must be starved!" Harry stated and promptly followed his own advice. He had to wait for a couple of hours before everybody was asleep and he could sneak out with the invisibility cloak; Severus could be hurt, he realised. Sure, he hadn't limped or anything when he had climbed down the stairs but his dad could be stubborn as a gryphon sometimes, especially when it came to showing any traces of pain or discomfort. He could have been bleeding to death and smile rather than showing it! With that thought he doubled his speed and reached the castle's dungeons in a record time. He knocked on the door rather hard and, sometime after the forth knock, Severus -who didn't appear to have attempted to sleep at all- opened the door. Upon seeing nobody, he swiftly moved a little to the left, smirking when he felt Harry pass by him, and closed the door.

"What brings you down here, Harry?" Severus asked as the green eyed boy removed his invisibility cloak. "Any more trolls I should know of?" Harry rolled his eyes and sat down on an armchair.

"I swear Adrian is trying to scare me to death sometimes but that's not the point."

"Oh?" Severus chuckled slightly at the businesslike air the green eyed wizard had assumed, one that reminded him of himself when worried.

"Are you hurt?" Harry asked his eyes intent on his leg.

"Am  _I_  hurt?" Severus asked back perplexed; he hadn't seen that coming.

"You went to check on Fluffy while I was trying to prevent my brother from being beaten to a pulp by a troll, didn't you?" Harry offered flippantly, his worry not quite successfully masked by his tone.

"As a matter of fact I did."

"And Fluffy…" Harry's eyes lost some of their fire which was replaced instead by that watery quality and subtle sparkle, accompanied with the pleading look that he had come to associate with what the boy called 'puppy eyes'. Oh no… "Fluffy attacked you didn't he? I saw your right leg was…" The boy trailed off, his eyes wide and pleading. Severus's heart melted into a puddle of goo at the sight; Harry could be right down adorable if he felt like it. Or maybe it was unintentional. Yeah, right…

"Look, Harry, I…"

"Don't try to hide it if you're hurt, okay Dad?" Severus sighed with a smile.

"I  _could_  have been hurt; that bloody dog almost got my right leg, but it seems swordfight practice has been good for my reflexes." And to stress his point, he showcased said leg which was skinny and overly pale due to the glamour charms but otherwise completely unharmed. "I moved out of the way on the last second but he managed to tear my trousers with his claws; a small price to pay if you ask me!"

"So you're not hurt?" Harry asked smiling wide.

"Nope!" Severus offered as the boy hugged him with a loud 'Yay!'.

"And, besides almost being clawed by a Cerberus, how did your night turn out?" Harry asked, his curiosity returning now that he knew Severus was unharmed.

"You mean, did I get sight of anyone coming for the Stone?" Severus guessed taking a seat opposite of the boy.

"I was going to ask, if you caught a sight of Quirrell coming for the Stone, but okay." The potions master's eyes widened for a second before he started laughing.

"So I'm not the only one who noticed the convenience of a troll, a  _troll_  of all things, breaking into the school while everybody was gathered together for the feast?" Severus asked after sobering up.

"You mean nobody else  _did_  notice?" Harry asked confused. "But… but trolls are  _stupid_! And Quirrell is the Defence against the Dark Arts teacher and he conveniently passed out when the rest of the school was rushing either towards the dungeons or the dormitories!" The boy vented as he paced the room. "And we know -you said- Voldemort will seek inside help to get the Stone!" He finally exclaimed and sat back down on his chair exhausted as if he had run a few miles; his mind was spinning and his breath was coming out fast. He was close to hyperventilating and the potions master jumped to his rescue.

"Harry! Calm down please." And with a wave of his wand, he summoned two cups of hot chocolate from the kitchens, passing one to the worried boy in front of him.

"Thanks, Sev." Harry mumbled and took a small gulp of the warm liquid. He would need to keep his excitement in check, it seemed.

"Now think about it a little, Harry; the rest of the student body doesn't know about the Philosopher Stone being in the school. The teachers have no way of knowing  _why_  the Stone is here; I only know because of Nicholas and because, well, I actually pressured Albus into telling me, just for the kicks of it." Harry chuckled at the thought. "And even if they did about Voldemort being after the stone, do you think it would be Quirrell they suspected? Stuttering and afraid of his shadow Quirrell?" The potions master asked as Harry stared at his cup.

"I guess not." He looked up back into Severus' eyes. "But what about Professor Dumbledore? Doesn't he suspect Quirrell?" Severus sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Dumbledore has the habit of allowing people the benefit of a doubt; sometimes that holds more danger than it does good, but he's unshakable on the subject." He looked at Harry who was considering the latest details. "I will try to broach the subject with him, but he can be quite stubborn."

"I see." Harry stated blankly, the sparkle in his eyes dimming.

"But enough of that for a night!" Severus declared, his smile widening at the confused look he received from the boy.

"What?"

"I said enough of that; nobody got closer to the Stone than I did tonight, nobody got hurt and you managed to bring a troll to its knees with a single curse." Severus explained. "I believe we should look at the bright side of the night's shenanigans, don't you?" Harry burst out laughing, which had been the point all along.

" _Shenanigans_ , Sev?" He asked amidst laughter. "Really?"

"Why yes, really." The potions master nodded once seriously, waving his wand to take off the concealing charms from his appearance. "That's better." He admitted while Harry followed his example. "Now, I would like to hear what really happened tonight." Severus prompted and so Harry explained. The night passed quite calmly after that, both wizards doing their best to push any unwelcome thoughts to the back of their minds.

And in such a way, November started, bringing along the usual cold Harry had gotten used to around this time of the year and the beginning of the Quidditch period. Now  _that_ , in dire contrast to the cold weather, Harry had never faced before and, as a result, was at loss as to how he should deal with it. On the one hand, he had always wanted to play in a real Quidditch game and Wood was running around the school singing praises of the green eyed boy's abilities, boosting his confidence and making him eager for the first mach. On the other hand, never having played an actual game of Quidditch before meant he couldn't know how he was going to react during a real match while under pressure, that simple fact leaving him filled with dread. Not knowing which of the two contrasting feelings he should follow -dread or excitement- Harry did a little bit of both, his predicament causing Severus to secretly chuckle with mirth.

His parents had sent him an encouraging letter, reminding him they would be there for his first game. The letter would have been more encouraging had it not been accompanied with a bright crimson envelope, quite recognisable as a Howler, addressed to his brother. Both Harry and Adrian had never imagined their mother could yell like that. Severus, when Harry asked his opinion on the matter the same evening, seemed less surprised.

There had however been an obvious change from the past two months and it had more to do with the way Adrian and Ron treated Hermione and how she reacted to them in turn. They seemed to have bonded since that Halloween night, Harry thought with a smirk. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, the green eyed boy mused, and knocking out a twelve-foot mountain troll -or thinking you did at least- is once of them. That of course had meant that, from what Harry could see as his brother had firmly kept him out of that subject, the bushy haired girl was now actively involved in their search of what could be hidden under that trapdoor. Harry shivered at the thought of what would happen if they ever knew.

The days passed and the game was approaching fast. Harry had tried to fend of his anxiety by doing some of what he called  _fun research_  in the library. He had come up with that term when helping Severus in his researches, claiming that since the research wasn't meant for one of his projects it was done for pure fun. Severus on the other hand claimed that the only thing he could come up with for a five-hour research amidst dusty volumes that could be characterised as  _fun_  was the name Harry had given it. Both were well aware Harry had just said that so Severus would allow him to stay in the laboratory with him; none of them minded to point that fact out.

Using the term research, the green eyed boy meant jotting down spells and charms used on broomsticks so that they could fly and operate without malfunctioning. The abundance of spells he found -some quite useful in other areas of his studies- had prompted a conversation with Severus the day before the match. They were having a cup of hot chocolate in Sev's office, as it had become customary, and Harry tentatively spoke of his thoughts.

"Sev?"

"Yes, Harry?" The potions master asked back, trying to conceal his smile; every time Harry started a conversation like that it meant he had come up with something he was dying to tell him about.

"I have been doing some research lately." Harry stated.

"Not very surprising in itself, but do continue." Harry smiled and did just that.

"Since the match was approaching I figured I could look up a few things on broomsticks while I was in the library, you know, so I could get my mind off the actual game." The boy admitted as Severus listened attentively.

"Go on." He pressed and Harry continued after breathing in deeply.

"And I found myself thinking over what Nicholas had said, about how taking up something that would force me to be creative might help me progress as an alchemist." The boy said looking at Severus. "Do you think that maybe I could, I don't know, tweak a little with one of the old brooms when we get back home?" Severus' eyebrows almost got lost in his hairline. That was it? "I mean, as long as I don't let it interfere with my studies." The boy hastily imputed, misunderstanding Severus' expression. "I'll do it on my free time I promise and…"

"Harry stop!" Severus exclaimed smiling. "Of course you can. You didn't even have to ask."

"Really?" Harry asked his eyes brightening.

"Yeah, really." Severus reassured him. "You  _like_  Quidditch, don't you?"

"Of course I do!" The boy exclaimed, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"And you would enjoy doing a little research on the subject." Severus stated as Harry nodded emphatically. "Then I want you to do it, Harry. Why would you think I wouldn't?"

"I thought, because of Voldemort and everything, that I should practice more and not waste my time…"

"Living?" Severus interrupted him with a cocked eyebrow. "Harry, Merlin knows -and I think he really does- how hard you've been studying!" The potions master offered seriously.

"I have to, Sev; it's not that I don't enjoy learning. But if I don't keep going I might not survive this." Severus's heart clenched in his chest.

"Harry, look at me for a second." He spoke softly and Harry raised his eyes to the older wizard's face. "Yes, you do have to study and yes, it will help you survive. But tell me, what good is surviving if you don't get to live a little?" Harry's eyes widened as he tried to come up with a viable answer.

"Well, I… I…"

"You will read more on those spells and, come the summer, you'll start taking those old broomsticks that have been gathering dust in the cellar apart." Severus stated decisively. "I might even help, if you'd like." He was rewarded with one of Harry's patented bear-hugs for his offer, an action he freely interpreted as a  _yes_.

The next morning Harry's stomach seemed to have sunk and promptly gotten stuck somewhere close to his knees. His heart was beating a mile per minute and his ears were buzzing. Maybe he shouldn't play like this; he felt more fit for the infirmary at that moment than the Quidditch pitch. Still, he ordered himself to swallow some of his breakfast -which he figured must have been pretty tasty if the way Ron was wolfing it down was any indication- and left the Great Hall sooner than the rest of the student body along with his team. He caught the eye of Severus before leaving the room and the small, undetectable if you didn't look for it, nod of encouragement he sent his way.

He swiftly changed into his red and golden robes, as every team seemed to compete dressed in their House colours, and moved closer to the rest of the team; Wood was giving his customary speech, with the twins happily intervening, having apparently heard it one time too many. The sounds of footsteps brought Harry out of his reverie and the whole team got ready to enter the pitch. He approached Madam Hooch who was refereeing and listened to the speech he gave the teams on fair play, the two Houses' rivalry obviously having in the past extended to the Quidditch pitch. It seemed that she was staring mostly to the Slytherin Captain as she spoke, a boy named Marcus Flint, who had something of a troll about him. Harry breathed in deeply; time to live a little, he decided and mounted his broom. Madam Hooch gave the signal and the game was on.

His fears seemed to all have been for naught as any worry he might have had dispersed once he took flight, the wind rushing through his hair and robes. He looked around rapidly as he searched for the elusive golden Snitch, having half an eye for what was going on with the game. As he searched, his eyes fell on a banner his brother and his classmates had made for him; 'Potter for President' it said and made the boy smile widely. He also caught sight of some long, dark red hair that undisputedly belonged to his mother on the stands reserved for the players' families, right next to the teachers. He quickly turned his eyes on the game as Gryffindor scored.

He looked around the pitch but could find no sign of the Snitch; he continued his search even while dodging a Bludger sent his way from the other team's beater. His sudden plunge must have surprised everyone but him for he heard a collective gasp and applause as he returned to his search.

"Nice one, Harry!" Fred or George Weasley exclaimed, sending the Bludger to Flint with some viciousness. Harry chuckled and went back to his search. The only gleam of light he had seen so far was coming from one of the twins' watches and then… There it was! Right beneath the Slytherin goalposts and actually standing quite still; Harry thought he would have missed it if it hadn't been for all that training in the field back home; Severus' castle was equipped with a formal sized Quidditch pitch -the one they used in Hogwarts was about three fourths of the professional court- and Harry had often insisted, with Severus not complaining, to stay close to nightfall while he chased the Snitch. Locating it here, in broad daylight, now seemed quite easy. In the corner of his eye he noticed Alicia Spinet, one of the Gryffindor chasers making her way towards the goalposts, Quaffle in hand; this looked promising.

Without dwelling on his thoughts too much, he turned his broom towards the same direction as Alicia's and, being much higher than she was, dove downwards and in front of her, speeding like a maniac, causing all players to spread around the field, the way now clear for Alicia who threw the Quaffle in, earning yet another ten points for Gryffindor. Harry didn't stay to watch however, as he dove yet lower and towards the Snitch who had moved just enough to cause Harry to execute the equivalent of a back-flip while on broom. Unconcerned, the green eyed boy rose from where he flew, near to the green grass, and flew high again, his right fist in the air, the Golden Snitch trying to escape from his fingers. With the final whistle, the team flew to him as the crowd cheered. The Slytherin Captain looked homicidal but the Slytherin Head of House had a proud glint in his eyes.

"We won!" Oliver Wood yelled over and over again as Lee broadcasted the score -170-0- loud enough to be heard above the cheering crowd. Later, in the Gryffindor changing room, Harry was congratulated by his parents, a smiling Remus and a shocked Sirius.

"Ruddy Hell, Harry!" The dog animagus exclaimed, surprise colouring his every word. "I didn't know you could play that well!"

"And that back-flip in the end?" James stated proudly. "The mark of a genius I tell you!"

"Well I always said he took more after me…" Lily stated, sending everyone -but James- in peals of laughter.

"Where's Adrian?" Harry asked concerned after some small-talk was made.

"He was talking with Hagrid along with Ron and a brunette." Sirius stated wiggling his eyebrows. "Has Adrian found himself a girlfriend?"

"Hermione is a just a friend, I believe." Harry answered, saving his brother from Sirius's merciless teasing. The Weasley twins approached them then, smiling two identical smiles as they greeted everybody.

"There you are, Harry! Great game mate!" One of them, probably George, exclaimed.

"We just came to warn you…"

"…that Oliver has been praising you to everyone willing to listen…"

"… so if he comes this way, you'd better run…"

"…less he decides to proclaim his undying love to you!" And like that they both left, leaving behind a perplexed Harry and his shaking with laughter family.

"Well, that was interesting." Harry stated as he noticed Professor McGonagall approaching them. "Good morning, Professor." The boy greeted her and she graced him with a small smile.

"Mr. Potter." She said. "I'm glad to see my choice to allow you in the team was rewarded!" Then he turned to his parents and family "Nice to see you all."

"Good to see you too, Minnie!" Sirius exclaimed as Harry tried to rein his laughter. Minerva eyed Sirius scathingly.

"Sirius." He turned her attention back to Harry. "I just hope all that practice hasn't prevented you from finishing your Transfiguration essay?" The professor asked, making Harry smile, surprising his family; nobody smiled under Minerva's glares; Harry wouldn't have either -he usually felt the need to salute her or something- but the exhilaration from winning the mach was still there and besides;

"I finished it yesterday night, Professor; I knew there would be no time today." Minerva smiled again at his answer and nodded.

"Young Harry is the first in his year you know." She informed them, causing the boy to turn beet red and his mother to hug him.

"You didn't tell us, Harry!" She complained, messing up her younger son's hair.

"I study a lot." Harry shrugged it off.

"First in your year?" Sirius asked mock horrified as James nodded.

"If we don't take care, you'll be a prefect in no time!" His mock shudder turned real as Lily turned her eyes glaring at her husband. "I was just kidding, Lils!"

"Congratulations, Harry." Lupin stated unfazed by his best friends' antics. "And don't listen to what he says; your Dad's very proud of you." James was still being chastised and Harry's mind flew momentarily to Severus, hoping that he was indeed proud.

"Great game, bro!" Adrian's voice sounded from the door and soon, after some quick introductions were made, the small group returned to the castle. Harry thought there were some conspiratory glances exchanged between his bother, Ron and Hermione but he had no chance to press the subject as he soon had to bid his family goodbye; his brother and his friends had disappeared to Merlin knew where when he turned back to look for them.

 


	21. Christmas Wishes

And the conspiratorial glances and hushed tones continued for the whole month and as Christmas drew nearer, Harry's nerves where being actively tested. At least his animagus transformation was almost completed, he thought with pride. He could now turn his whole body to a wolf except his head, but the process was almost done. He has heading to the library for some more sigils studying -while he was supposed to research charms- when he noticed three most recognisable figures of his brother and his two best friends, the trio that had become inseparable during the past month and a half. And they were going to the library.

Now, Hermione he could accept cutting down her free time to study but Adrian and Ron? And so close to lunchtime too? No way! Besides, this wasn't the first time something like that had happened. The green eyed boy had often caught Adrian and his two friends looking over books in the library but, as he usually was the first one there, he had no way to approach them without being seen. But today presented a unique opportunity.

Without further thought, he waited for them to enter the library, counted to one hundred and followed them in. He took a quick peek at them just to make note of the subject they were looking at -Biographies and Recent History? Why?- and swiftly chose the row behind the one they were at. He pressed himself close to an opening between two bookcases and did his best to listen to their whispering. His efforts were soon rewarded by Ron's annoyed voice sounding muffled behind the bookcase.

"Are you sure we're looking at the right books?" He asked almost whining.

"These are the books on great wizards and witches of our century, Ron! If Nicholas Flamel is mentioned anywhere, it should be here!" Hermione answered agitated and Harry's brain did a double-take. Nicholas… Books… Adrian…  _What_?

"Yeah, but we've been looking for a bloody month and a half!" Ron complained.

"Look, Ron." Adrian stated, the soft scuffling sound accompanying his words indicating he had knocked some books over. "If we don't find out who Flamel is then we have no clues as to what Fluffy guards." They knew the dog was called Fluffy too? But how? Harry tried to think back to when their strange behavior had started. As Ron so graciously had mentioned, it had been a month and a half ago… Right after his first Quidditch game actually. But what could have caused such a change to occur? His mind was working on overdrive, trying to put the pieces together.

" _He was talking with Hagrid along with Ron and a brunette."_ It was surprisingly his godfather's voice that came to mind. That's right; Adrian had been late that day because Ron, Hermione and himself had been talking to Hagrid. Hagrid who had given the Headmaster the Cerberus that was now guarding the Stone. Hagrid who, without a doubt, knew why a Cerberus of all creatures was needed to guard whatever was guarded in the school; Dumbledore would have told him. Hagrid who couldn't lie to save his life; a few questions and a slip of the tongue and his brother could have easily learned about Nicholas.

"But why can't we just ask someone already?" Ron whined; it was a good question actually.

"Because that's the easiest way for Snape to find out, Ron!" Adrian whispered back and Harry cocked an eyebrow in confusion; what did Sev have to do with all this?

"I can't believe Dumbledore hasn't done anything about the git yet!" Ron exclaimed. Hold on a minute!

"And he was right there in the third floor corridor the night of the attack!" Hermione agreed.

"Just to think that my brother had to spend so much time with him growing up!" Adrian added in anger. "Dad always said he was bad news!"

"I bet that's why Harry's so skinny and pale! Snape must have him doing chores all day!" Yeah right, the wizard in question mused; I had to live in a castle and travel around the world. Woe is me! Harry couldn't believe his ears; they thought that Severus was behind all this?

"Now stop it both of you!" Hermione whispered. "We need to keep looking!" And I need to get going, Harry thought his mind intent on tracking down one Severus Snape. The potions master would be furious, Harry thought, and he would have every right to be too.

"So let me get this straight; they think that  _I'm_  behind this?" Severus asked and broke into a fit of laughter. The green eyed boy just looked at him surprised.

"I don't think you heard me. They think that…"

"Oh, I heard you!" Severus assured him wiping the tears from his eyes. "But let's be honest here Harry; whom did you think your brother would suspect? Flitwick?"

"I just hoped… oh, I don't know!" Harry said seating deeper in the armchair next to the roaring fire in Severus's office. "I just hoped that Adrian could look past all the nasty stuff Prongs and Sirius say about you. Guess I was wrong…" He mumbled the last part out.

"It's fine really; I take it as a tribute to my amazing acting skills." Severus stated seriously, making Harry laugh, which had been the point all along.

"At least they have no idea where to search for Nicholas. I mean I was eight the first time I heard his name and even back then I knew it reminded me something important; you would think that Adrian with all his training would have read about him somewhere." The boy complained.

"Well, there are always those Chocolate Frogs collective cards…" Severus trailed off, making Harry chuckle.

"I didn't know Nicholas has one. He's been rather trying to keep a low profile."

"He doesn't have one per se; he's mentioned on Dumbledore's though."

"You should know." Harry stated dryly. "Sometimes I believe you have more of a sweet tooth than Remus and that says something."

"It does indeed." Severus agreed with a smirk. "Anyway, as long as they keep searching in the wrong books we'll be on the clear. And it's good to see that they're scared of me enough to not go around asking; they might end up asking the wrong people." The potions master concluded.

"Like Quirrell?"

"Exactly like Quirrell." Severus agreed, his tone somber. "But now tell me; are you still planning on staying at Hogwarts for the holidays?"

"Yep. Adrian begged he could stay since Ron would too, what with his family going to Romania to visit Charlie and everything, and I figured it'd be best if I stayed too." Harry stated. "Besides Prongs has decided to take my mother abroad; something about a second honeymoon." Harry immediately wished he had swallowed his tongue; how could he let something like that slip? Severus however seemed bent on surprising him that day.

"Good." He offered. "Lily deserves to be pampered once in a while." And in all honesty, he meant what he had said. He had even surprised himself a little, but he had finally managed to think of Lily and James together and not get even a tingle of pain in his gut. He just wanted to see the woman he cared about happy and if James Potter could do that, then fine. He still loved Lily, he realized; he was his first and truest friend and a great woman. He just wasn't in love with her anymore. The realization brought a smile to his face.

"You okay, Dad?" Harry asked and Severus's smile widened.

"I'm actually great, thank you, Harry." Thank you for everything kid, he thought as he looked at the surprised young wizard. "I was just asking because I figured it would be as good opportunity as any to complete our animagus transformation."

"Really?" Harry asked with a face splitting smile.

"Really."

"You know you could have completed the transformation a month ago or so." Harry stated self-consciously. "You didn't have to wait…"

"Harry, I wanted to wait; we started this together." Severus stated in his I'm-not-kidding voice and Harry smiled again.

The holidays started soon and the first day of Christmas break saw Hermione Granger leaving the castle, whispering something to Adrian and Ron that Harry was too far away to catch. Not that he needed to strain his imagination to figure out what it was about. He sighed; how he wished his brother would let him in on what they were planning! Then again, he figured, that was a little pretentious of him, considering what he was hiding from his brother himself. Still, he found a reason to be happy; he was to complete his transformation that night; all he had to do was wait till everybody was asleep and snatch the cloak. He smiled at the thought.

Midnight found him smiling still, having just sneaked out of the Common Room, under the nose of a rather surprised Fat Lady. Severus answered the door on the first knock and, after their glamour spells had been removed, they swooped into action. After practicing changing separate body parts at first, Severus deemed them ready for the full transformation.

"Just remember to keep thinking of how you want to end up; picture the wolf." The potions master reminded him as Harry nodded. The boy closed his eyes and concentrated. He held a picture of the black wolf he was attempting to become and commanded his body to start the change. The first thing he became aware of was the tingling sensation of fur sprouting on his body; then came the odd sensation of having his body pulled or pushed until it was shaped in the form instructed. When he could feel the changes no more, he opened his eyes. The world around looked different he decided; the colours were off and… had he really heard somebody walking on the floor above him through some good four feet of compact stone? Apparently he had. Oh and there was another wolf looking at him expectantly across the room. He almost jumped until he realized it was Severus. He let out a bark that seemed to be the wolf equivalent of a chuckle.

Harry approached Severus and used his paw to push him back a little, only to have the potions master -now turned wolf- swat him across the back of his head, his teeth showing in some type of wolfish smirk. Severus the wolf was taller than him, Harry noted, but that was probably because he was younger. With an excited laugh -howl- Harry jumped up and landed on all fours, running around the room for a while, barely noticing and amused Severus shaking his head. The potions master changed back, motioning Harry to do the same; it took some concentration, but Harry soon found himself in his normal body smiling wide at the potions master.

"That was wicked!" He decided, Severus laughing at his antics.

"I will have to agree." He stated. "Now let's see if we can get the transformation occur faster; it has to come like second nature." And they did just that, training for an extra hour before any of them was satisfied with the progress they had made for the night. Harry was practically jumping up and down with joy; he was an animagus! An official and proper one! And the proof was, as he suspected, edged on his mark. He had felt the customary heat that could only mean something had changed in his emblem; and truly, there, right beneath the line that marked him as a Parselmouth, inside one of the horizontal lines that composed his emblem, stood the two runes he could himself translate.  _Animagus_.

He left Severus's office smiling like a maniac, a book under his arm that Severus had brought from home; he had found it only a few days ago and had figured that the boy would like to take a look at it. It was entitled  _E_ _ormenláf_ _D_ _éor_ _d_ _rý_ _a_  or in modern English,  _The Legacy of the Animagi_. It was written in runes and the potions master wanted Harry to try his hand in translating it. Harry spent most of that night doing just that.

It was of no surprise that he found himself rudely awakened -and much too early- two days later on Christmas morning from the ever anxious to open his presents Adrian. Harry would have laughed at his brother's antics had his bedside clock not informed him that he had slept only for five hours; he was still working on that book, keeping notes on the side as he went through it; it had proved quite an interesting read, especially the parts were it stated how the transformation affected the human form of the wizard just as much as the wizard's personality affected the outcome of the transformation. Apparently there were some characteristics that slipped through from one form to the other, but Harry was still looking into that part. Back to the present however, he was faced with a pile of presents at the foot of his bed and an anxious twin brother who was all but jumping on said bed to wake him up.

"Come on, Harry!" Adrian said excited. "We've got presents!"

"And a Merry Christmas to you too, Adrian." Harry chuckled as his brother shrugged and wished him back.

"Merry Christmas, Harry." Ron uttered amidst yawning, having quite obviously been awakened in the same way as the green eyed wizard had been.

"Yeah, yeah! Merry Christmas to y'all! Can we open our presents now?" Adrian exclaimed exasperated as he regarded the pile of packages in front of his bed. Harry and Ron laughed at him but complied nonetheless, quite eager to go through their presents too now that they had somewhat woken up themselves. Harry knew he would have to visit Severus's office later to get his gifts from the potions master and the Flamels but the presents in front of him now looked just as promising.

He started unwrapping and found a hand-made flute from Hagrid, a brand new and equally hand-made emerald green sweater from Mrs. Weasley -Harry loved those and the warm feeling that was hidden in every stitch- a book of spells best utilized for pranks from Sirius and a yearly subscription to Transfiguration Weekly courtesy of Remus, accompanied a note stating that, though he might not understand everything he read, it would do him good if even half of what Minerva had claimed about his potential was accurate. And coming from Minerva McGonagall, the werewolf had stated, it probably was. Remus had no way of knowing the boy had wanted to subscribe in that magazine for ages but didn't know how to get it past his parents; he made a mental note to thank him personally for that.

His parents had got him brand new Quidditch supply, including a preservation kit for his new broomstick which Harry regarded with a smile. They were in Paris, their letter informed him, and apparently having a blast. He took a small bite of the delicious chocolate fudge that accompanied Mrs. Weasley's sweater before Fred and George burst in to kidnap them for a family outing as they called it. Harry found himself smiling all the way to the end of the day -it definitely had something to do with the flower adorned bonnet which Dumbledore wore instead of his wizard's hat; Harry could see the tiny indicators of Severus doing his best to hold back his laughter too.

He walked briskly towards Severus's office, an hour before curfew, having mentioned to his brother that he had -quite conveniently- forgotten his potions textbook in the dungeons but never had gotten around to reclaim it. Ron couldn't understand why in the world Harry would want to visit the dungeons voluntarily on Christmas of all days and the green eyed boy quickly reminded him of the three feet long essay they had to write on the eight basic ingredients of potion-making. Ron just blanched and nodded sullenly as Harry left the common room. He knocked on Severus's office and entered swiftly, locking the door behind him and getting rid of any concealment charms he was sporting.

"Merry Christmas, Dad!" The boy exclaimed as he ran to hug the potions master who returned the gesture.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Harry!" Said honorary proclaimed Dad wished back. "So, how was your first Christmas away from home?"

"Odd." Harry announced immediately. "But any day when Dumbledore chooses to wear a bonnet would be odd." Severus burst into the laughter he hadn't allowed himself all day.

"That man sometimes is too much for my poor nerves; try keeping an impassive face when sitting next to  _that_!" The potions master agreed and pulled out his wand, waving it once, summoning two packages from behind his desk. "I suppose you would want your presents." He stated with a smirk.

"I would rather like them, yes." Harry agreed neutrally before grinning at the parcels in his hands. They both looked like books of some sort and he first unpacked the one that looked smaller; it turned out to be the gift from Nicholas and Perenelle; it was truly a book, from the alchemist's personal collection, according to the letter that accompanied it.  _Rubedo_  was its title and Harry stood gapping at it for a few moments, before Severus broke the silence.

"I take it you didn't expect such a gift?" The potions master asked bemused.

"Expect? It's the… that's the…" Harry mumbled incoherently.

"In full sentences now, if you please." Severus stated chuckling as Harry recomposed himself.

"It's a book on the last step of creating the Philosopher's Stone." Harry spoke in a soft voice. "The last chapter of the  _Magnum Opus_ , the secret of all secrets in alchemy." Severus was now staring at the book just as awed as Harry. "Can you understand what this is? Nicholas must have written this himself!" Harry exclaimed as he reverently turned the pages of the -now clearly- hand written book. This was it; the final stage in becoming a full fledged alchemist.

"Are you trying to tell me that Nicholas sent you the guidelines to create a Philosopher's Stone?" Severus asked in a disbelieving voice.

"No, not the guidelines." Harry explained touching the book gently, almost afraid it would disappear. "It's the text that describes how the process looks like, the end result if you like; every alchemist has to find their way to reach it but… It's like Nicholas has deemed me worthy to try and reach that level. This is… This is  _huge_ , Sev." Harry explained seriously and Severus placed his hand on his shoulder, understanding what this moment must mean to him.

"You did great, kid." He stated simply and Harry smiled before blanching and starting to panic.

"But… It's too soon!" He exclaimed suddenly. "How could I be ready?"

"Harry, breathe!" The potions master ordered. "You said it yourself; these are not the guidelines; it could take you years to reach that level." The boy seemed to calm down at Severus's logic.

"Sorry for that." He apologized blushing. "It's just… Nicholas's present kind of caught me by surprise."

"I noticed." The potions master offered with a smirk. Harry placed the book carefully on the Severus's desk and started unwrapping the potions master's present. First thing that he noticed was a silver ring with carved runes on it that Severus explained was charmed with a powerful trace-me-not spell. "As long as you have it on," the potions master explained "you will not appear on any magical tracing device; it even blocks your trace to the Ministry, provided you'll contain yourself to only a couple of minor spells in a Muggle populated area. I just figured it would be easier than renewing that spell every week." Harry smiled and placed the ring on the thumb of his right hand, covering it up with a concealment spell. He moved to the main part of the gift. It was another book, entitled…

"No way!" Harry exclaimed, running to hug Severus as tight as he could, a copy of  _The Art of the Broom-smith_  held tight in his hands. "Where did you find that book?" He asked excited.

"I may or may not have bought a percentage of Obscurus Publications, the agency that once again may or may not print the original textbooks for the broomstick manufacturers." Severus stated calmly looking at the gaping boy.

"Really?" The older wizard nodded with a smirk. "Wicked!"

"It is." Severus offered before dissolving into laughter. "But seriously now, this is just the first book of a series. Once you finish it, I'll give you the rest to read."

"Thanks, Dad!" Harry stated brightly.

"Don't mention it; if you're truly interested into learning something new I'd be loath to not help you with it." The potions master reassured him. Harry smiled and pulled out a small package from his pocket, neatly wrapped in a dark blue paper with a gold ribbon. "What's that?" Severus asked confused.

"A dungbomb, only wrapped very nicely." Harry stated dryly. "It's your Christmas present!" Severus's eyes widened; Harry always got him a present every Christmas -he was the only one that did anymore actually- but this year he had expected that with school and everything… Not that Harry could give him a better gift than calling him Dad, still he couldn't help but feel that warmth spreading in his chest.

"Thank you, Harry." The potions master stated, taking the gift from the boys extended hand.

"Open it first…" Harry mumbled. "It really isn't much; I mean, I made it by myself since I didn't have time to buy anything… If you don't like it…" Severus in the meantime had unwrapped his gift carefully and opened the small box to find an equally small, sealed glass vial, wrapped with a wire of some off black metal, containing what seemed to be iridescent crystals of some deep blue substance and a small heliodor with a carved sigil on it. The vial was filled with what seemed to be a translucent oil and was emitting a faint blue glow and a strong surge of magic.

"Is that…" Severus trailed off, looking at the tiny vial in shock.

"It's an alchemic charm." Harry stated blushing. "This specific one is of the enhancing type and it's designed to help you with your spell work." Harry explained. "The sigil allows it to store the unused magic which gets left behind when casting a spell; you can then use it anytime you want by simply clutching the charm when you cast another spell…" The boy concluded blushing deeply. Severus just stared on.

"And you made this by yourself?" Severus asked, looking at the charm with awe, sitting back in his armchair.

"Well, I asked Nicholas to send me the ingredients by owl but I designed the sigil and put the charm together, casting the spells needed for the past month or so myself. I know it's not much but…"

"Harry." Severus stopped him and looked straight into his eyes. "This," he started pointing at the charm "is a very rare, very valuable magical artifact. And for you making it by yourself…"

"But it's basic sigil-smith." Harry stated. "Any alchemist can…"

"And how many alchemists are there? That are active today I mean." Severus asked seriously. "And from them, how many do you think would part with such a charm willingly?" Harry looked at him confused, never having considered the fact before; how many other alchemists were there? "Very few, I can assure you." Severus offered as if reading his mind. "And none of them at Nicholas's level. Trust me when I say, this charm is… it's exceptional, Harry." Harry blushed even more.

"Thanks." He muttered inaudibly as Severus pulled him into a hug.

"Have I mentioned you're a genius lately?" And they both laughed. Harry soon had to leave as it was now almost curfew; he placed both books in his bag and bid Severus goodbye, leaving him staring at the charm before having to go out for his rounds. Harry himself skipped to the Gryffindor tower. The moment he entered the common room, he headed straight for his bed, as fast as he could without actually running, pulled the curtains around him and pulled out Nicholas's present from his bag; he wasn't sure how long he had been reading -it must have been hours- but his attention was suddenly captured by the sound of a trunk opening and closing, disturbing the otherwise quiet room. The green eyed wizard peaked behind his curtains slightly and barely managed to catch sight of his brother before he disappeared under the invisibility cloak; and it had been such a lovely day so far…

Harry held back a sigh and stood up to follow his brother, quickly casting tracing spell on him as he walked through the common room's opening; he would just have to be extra careful and hope Adrian didn't choose to go past the areas Severus would be patrolling for the night. Which meant what? The area around the library? Goblins' gold! Could his brother truly be heading… No way! But, as Harry came to realize, Adrian was indeed heading for the library. Hiding in the shadows, the younger Potter twin followed his brother's trace through the school and waited outside as he entered the library; it would be no use to follow him in there. He didn't have the cloak and besides, he had a pretty good idea where his brother was headed. If he was right he would only have to wait for a couple of minutes before…

An expected piercing scream broke the silence of the night into teeny tiny pieces. Maybe Adrian should heed Hermione's advice for once and read _Hogwarts A History_. If he had read it, he would have known that all books in the restricted section scream bloody murder if a student tried to read them without permission. Not one to disappoint, Filch appeared through a hidden passageway -Harry made a mental note to remember that one- and run straight for the library, his cat Mrs. Norris following closely. The trace he had placed on his brother clearly indicated he had ran right under Filch's extended arm -the irony- and was now running towards the East Wing and away from the Grand Staircase. Something told him that his brother was completely lost.

Harry waited for Filch to exit the library and enter the same hidden passageway through which he had come from before following his brother. While moving thus hidden, he could hear two pairs of footsteps coming his way; one had to be Filch while the other…

"The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them." Severus's falsely cold voice echoed through the corridor as Harry hid into an empty classroom waiting. When the two men passed him by, he exited the room and kept following his brother's trace. Adrian seemed to be hidden in a classroom two doors from the one he had chosen; he also showed no indication he would leave anytime soon. But what could he be doing in that empty classroom?

Whatever it was, it had already taken him half an hour at least, Harry thought after some more wait. The cluttering of an armor was heard in the distance -probably Peeves was back to his old tricks- and that seemed to remind Adrian he had to move; he exited the classroom almost inaudibly and run back the way he came. Harry would have followed him, but he couldn't help his curiosity piquing; what could lie in that room? He quickly stepped through the door his brother had left slightly open and looked around. On first glance, it looked just like what you'd expect from a presently empty classroom, the desks and chairs pilled up near the wall, their dark forms quite clear in the background. What was out of place however stood right in the middle of the room, claiming his attention.

It was a magnificent mirror, as high as the ceiling, with an ornate gold frame standing on two clawed feet. There was an inscription carved on top;  _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi_. What kind of language was that? It wasn't old English for sure… Harry pondered the writing for a few seconds until it hit him. This was a mirror after all; why not read the inscription backwards?  _I show not your face but your heart's desire_. That made more sense in a way and raised more questions at the same time. But what could the inscription mean he wondered, as he finally looked into the mirror. His breath caught in his throat; his reflection showed him as he really was, without his concealment charms. Could he have forgotten to cast them? Of course not! He remembered it quite clearly! As he looked at the mirror again, he noticed his reflection wasn't on its own. He looked behind him, but the room was empty.

Still next to him on the mirror, with one hand on his left shoulder, stood Severus. But not the Severus everybody knew and feared; it was Sev as Harry knew him, his real self. And next to them stood Harry's family; they were all smiling, no trace of the ever present fear in their eyes. Sirius and Prongs didn't look at Sev with disgust and Remus seemed healthier than ever. Harry smiled at the reflection, thinking just how great it could be if… Suddenly he frowned and shook his head. What did the inscription say again? I show not your face… So is that what my heart desires the most? Harry wondered. To be free to be myself and accepted for it? The green eyed wizard touched the image with his fingers once, tentatively. He then sighed and turned his back on the mirror and its false promises; if he ever wanted to make his wish come true, what he really shouldn't do was stand there and waste away wishing; he would have to act. He closed the door behind him and walked away, hating the mirror just a little. And when his brother and Ron disappeared the next night, Harry didn't bother to follow them.


	22. Was That A Dragon's Egg? But Of Course It Was!

The nightly visits of his brother to the mirror continued for a few days until stopping abruptly before managing to alert Harry too much. Adrian seemed decided to not use the cloak for the rest of Christmas holidays, burying it deep into his trunk and the green eyed wizard couldn't be happier for his decision. The beginning of term brought out Oliver Wood's fanatic side to the surface; the second match of the year for Gryffindor was drawing near and this time it was against Hufflepuff. Harry laughed with mirth as he returned from one of the muddiest trainings he had ever had, remembering how Severus had mentioned he was even willing to referee if that gave him the opportunity to fly.

He had a quick shower and headed for the Common Room, meeting a hopping Neville near the entrance. Harry just looked at him frozen for a second before approaching him and casting the counter-curse; it was quite obvious that someone had tried the leg binding curse on him.

"Are you alright, Neville?" Harry asked helping the round-faced boy stand straight. "What happened?"

"Malfoy." Neville mumbled as they entered the Common Room. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on." They had approached Adrian and his friends at that point and Hermione overheard the conversation.

"What are you two talking about?" Neville explained in a few short sentences and Hermione reacted immediately. "Go to professor McGonagall! Report him!" Neville shook his head resigned.

"I don't want more trouble." Ron encouraged the shy Gryffindor to not allow Malfoy step all over him, but Neville got the message wrong.

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that."

"What he meant," Harry explained. "Is that you shouldn't allow Malfoy put you down. The Hat chose you for Gryffindor, never forget that; it's been on that job for quite some time to know what it does and obviously thought you brave enough. You're worth twelve of Malfoy." Neville looked at the younger Potter twin surprised.

"Harry's right!" Adrian added, searching in his pocket and pulling out a Chocolate Frog, giving it to Neville. "You're a Gryffindor! And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin!" Harry didn't necessarily agree with the characterization chosen for the House of snakes but let it pass this once seeing the weak smile it put on Neville's face.

"Thanks Adrian…" Neville said taking the frog. "I think I'll go to bed… D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?" And the boy gave Adrian the card. Harry's heart skipped a beat at the image of the Headmaster on it, recalling Severus's words. A small sing-song voice in his head reminded him that truly no good deed goes unpunished.

"Dumbledore again." Adrian stated sullenly. "I must have him over five times. I'm only missing…" and then he gasped as he turned the card around to read the text. He looked at Ron and Hermione as if he wanted to tell them something and then stopped looking at his brother. Knowing there was nothing he could do at that point, Harry smiled -or tried to without being too sure of his success- and turned to leave.

"I'm going to read a bit on Transfiguration Weekly. I've never managed to look at the latest one what with all of Wood's training." And he left for his room, quickly retrieving said magazine and running back downstairs, catching his brother's exclamation as he went.

"I've found him!" Ruddy hell. Hermione was nowhere to be seen when he returned but she soon made her reappearance, holding a quite familiar tome in her hands; Harry recognized the book as it was the same copy of Dumbledore's work he had seen back at Potter Manor. When Hermione turned the pages and pointed at a page to a shocked Adrian and Ron, Harry wasted no time. He left the Common Room, unnoticed by the encompassed in their finding trio, walking calmly until the Fat Lady covered the opening behind him; after that he ran in a mad rush all the way to the dungeons, scaring a few fellow students on the way and ignoring all chastising to slow down from the portraits -mercifully not running into a professor- to, finally, knock out of breath on Severus office's door. The potions master opened the door confused as Harry rushed in.

"We've got a problem." Harry stated gasping for air.

"Don't we always." Severus muttered as Harry explained the situation at hand. "Yes, it seems we've got a problem." He agreed rubbing his temples. "Of all the rotten luck…"

"My thoughts exactly." Harry stated nodding gravelly. "And now what?"

"Nothing, what could we do?" Severus stated sighing. "We'll just have to be twice as careful to not let your brother ever approach that trapdoor. Not that he could get past Fluffy or any of the other trials that easily but he'd better not even approach it." The boy nodded, having heard about the trials before the chamber where the Stone was kept the same night he told Severus he knew about the Stone.

"It's just so frustrating!" Harry exclaimed after some thought. "I feel like he's going to deliver himself to Voldemort if he keeps going that way."

"We won't let that happen Harry." Severus stated decisively. "But remember, we don't want Voldemort to know of his mistake yet, if he doesn't already. You keep an eye on your brother and I'll do the same with Quirrell. It's all we can do for now." The boy nodded again, not really liking their options.

"Do you think there's anything more you can do on Quirrell's side of the equation?" He asked not liking the idea of the renegade teacher running around the school unobstructed.

"Maybe he and I are a little overdue for some quality time; I might as well threaten him to his face, see how that goes." At least that would be some progress Harry thought.

The days passed quite quickly after that and soon it was the time for the second game of the season. Maybe the Snitch felt that Harry's heart was far too troubled to stay tuned into the game for long and it decided to indulge him quickly; maybe he just had talent enough to pull it off. No matter what, it seemed to be the fastest Snitch catch anybody present could recall; no team had time enough to score a single point as the green eyed wizard caught the elusive golden ball in less than four minutes. Oliver was ecstatic, jumping up and down with joy; they were now first in run for the house Cup, right in front of Slytherin.

His parents couldn't make it this time but Sirius could, much to Harry's amusement; the dog animagus was looking at him with awe and was already planning his career as a professional Quidditch player. Adrian was actually agreeing and that didn't much help Harry's case.

After some light conversation with him and Remus -who looked unimaginably pale, only three days after the full moon- he decided to put his Nimbus back in the lockers before returning to the castle, parting ways with his godfather and honorary uncle who would accompany Adrian back to Hogwarts before leaving the castle.

He was walking quite lost in thought, surprisingly not because of the Stone or Voldemort for once; from something Sirius had let slip out for his parents' second honeymoon and the cross look on Moony's face that caused him to change the subject faster than Harry could blink, it seemed that their trip hadn't been quite the success. He had just exited the lockers when a hooded figure left the castle quite in a hurry; hood or not, he would recognize Severus anywhere. At the same time the sound of a different pair of footsteps snapped him out of his reverie and he instinctively hid inside a closet. The second pair of footsteps turned out to belong to no other than Adrian.

The hazel eyed boy entered the lockers and came back with a school broom a few seconds later -apparently not having managed to pry Harry's Nimbus Two Thousand as the green eyed wizard had placed enough spells on it to not even bulge from its position; some nastier ones too did someone decide to be persistent. Hoping on it, he followed the potions master from above. Harry sighed in frustration and went back to retrieve his own broom. Why, oh why did this have to happen every single time?

Taking the long way around, Harry followed his brother by air, having an odd sense of déjà-vu. His brother finally landed on a tree next to the sound of Severus's voice and Harry landed noiselessly in a thick breech tree right behind his brother; he could just make out two shapes in the dark clearing beneath them.

"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private. The students aren't supposed to know about the Philosopher's Stone after all." The potions master stated coldly. "Have you found a way to get past Hagrid's beast yet?" Severus asked and Harry didn't need to hear the stuttering to know it was Quirrell who answered. Seems that Severus had decided to have that conversation after all, the boy thought with a smirk.

"B-b-but Severus, I…"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell." The potions master stated, making Harry want to applaud.

"I-I don't know what you…"

"You know perfectly well what I mean." Quirrell seemed to be shaking, Harry noted. Good. The green eyed wizard tried to hear what Severus said next, but a loud hoot from an owl, hidden somewhere among the trees prevented him from doing so.

"… just like the troll incident on Halloween. I'm waiting." Oh, Sev had confronted him about the Halloween fiasco. Harry wondered what could Quirrell possibly have to say to that.

"B-but I d-d-don't…"

"Very well. We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie." And on that tone, he pulled his cloak's hood over his head again and left the clearing and what appeared to be a petrified Quirrell behind him. Harry waited for both the Defense teacher and his brother to leave before flying back to the school himself and running to the Gryffindor Tower. At least now, he imagined, Adrian would abandon the foolish notion of Severus being behind it all. His hopes had proven to be for naught as, while he was on his way to the Common Room, he caught his brother, Ron and Hermione running into an empty classroom; a little eavesdropping later and the green eyed wizard was ready to hit his head against the wall. Hard.

Apparently the whole confrontation in the forest had convinced Adrian of quite the opposite. He now seemed to think that not only Severus was trying to steal the Stone -apparently the trio had already realized it was the Philosopher's Stone that was guarded under that trapdoor- but now he was certain that it was the potions master that had let the troll into the school -cursed owl and its hooting!- and that Quirrell was what was standing between him and his goal. To put it simply, he was convinced that Quirrell was the one protecting the Stone and Severus the one out to get him. Bloody prejudices! Harry walked sullenly back into the Common Room where he was engulfed by his partying housemates that congratulated him for such an exemplary win. Severus was going to  _love_  this, Harry thought sarcastically.

As it turned out, Severus didn't, even with his caustic humor. What both of them found amusing however was catching the trio with their ears stuck on the door of the forbidden corridor, trying to listen if Fluffy was still there, alive and well.

"You know," Severus stated during one of their weekly swordfight practices "what I find interesting is that your brother believes that, in a fight between me and that Cerberus, I'd win." Harry, who was caught mid-swing, almost lost his balance from the mental image. What they didn't find amusing was their inability to act further.

Harry found himself at the library, doing some reading on the second book from the broom-making series Severus had bought him, when Hagrid made his appearance; a strange image on itself -not that Hagrid was stupid; he just generally preferred a more practical approach than research. The green eyed wizard observed him from the corner of his eyes, trying to remember which category of books was the one he was looking at. It was the magizoology part of the library of course, but those three bookcases were solely on… dragon care? Nah, that couldn't be right!

Just as he had decided to go and look for himself when Hagrid left the library, Hermione approached him. Knowing that this was a conversation he most likely would want to hear, he moved as close as possible while remaining inconspicuously seated on the same bench. He could just make out their voices;

"And we know that the dog's guarding the Philosopher's St…" Ron stated, causing Hagrid to shush him, only to have Adrian ask him about the other means of guarding the Stone except Fluffy. Harry felt he should prepare for the worse when he heard the giant invite them to his home to explain later.

Without deliberating on it much, Harry run to the Gryffindor Tower -thinking he was doing quite a lot of running these days because of Adrian and his friends- and grabbed the invisibility cloak, hiding it under his robes. He then proceeded to walk casually towards the Great Hall, waiting for his brother to arrive; it only took a total of twenty minutes before the trio made its appearance.

Harry waited till they exited the Great Hall and then followed them, hiding under the cloak the moment he reached the first dark corner. He walked just a few feet behind them and swiftly entered the giant's hut along with his brother and his friends, sitting in the far corner of the sole room that composed Hagrid's home.

Despite good weather the fire was lit behind the grand chair Hagrid was seated on and the curtains were drawn shut to the sunny day outside -the first after a line of rainy weeks. Harry sat there and tried to contain his gasp of shock as Hagrid explained everything to his twin brother –though their expression when they found out that Severus was one of those assigned to guard the Stone was priceless. Not that it said much since Quirrell was one of the Stone's guardians too but... There was no holding his gasp however when Adrian noticed the dragon egg in the fireplace. Hagrid was actually trying to make it hatch? And where did he get a dragon egg in the first place? As Ron mentioned, quite correctly, dragon breeding had been banned for three hundred years! Harry left the hut that afternoon with one more reason to be worried.

"He's got a what?" Severus asked his face a mask of shock. He thought he had heard that Hagrid had a Norwegian Ridgeback's egg hatching in his hut but that couldn't be the case.

"He's got a Norwegian Ridgeback's egg hatching in his hut." Harry repeated.

"Why?" Was all that Severus could think of asking, all other questions paling in comparison.

"I've been asking myself that since I saw the egg."

"Any ideas?"

"On why he has the egg, or on what he should do with it?" The boy asked.

"I would say on both but, for the sake of whatever is left of my mental health, let's stick with how to deal with it part." Severus offered. Harry shrugged.

"If we tell anybody about the egg, Hagrid looses his job and might even end up in Azkaban for endangering the lives of students." The raven haired boy stated. "Hagrid might be a little… spontaneous at times, but his job is his life. I don't want to see him loose it." Severus nodded.

"I see your point." The potions master agreed with a soft smile. "And Azkaban truly isn't the place for him. But he can't keep the egg."

"I don't see him parting with it before it hatches." Harry imputed.

"You said he has placed it over open fire already?"

"Yes."

"In that case the hatching process has already begun; the dragon will be ready to hatch in a few days." Severus informed him.

"Lovely." Harry commented drily.

"At least nobody else knows but Adrian and his friends."

"No, just my brother, Ron and Hermione and now the two of us." Severus nodded.

"But what to do with a dragon?" They both stood to contemplate the situation. Harry suddenly had an epiphany.

"Charlie!"

"Who?" Severus asked snapping out of his reverie.

"Charlie Weasley, Ron's older brother, the one that works with dragons in Romania!" Harry exclaimed. "I might be able to hint something to my brother so that Charlie will be on the top of his head. They already tried to get Hagrid to get rid of the egg."

"It's the best we can do." Severus agreed. "Let's just hope that nobody finds out about it." But it wasn't to be; from all the people in Hogwarts, it seemed that Draco Malfoy was the one who found out. Harry couldn't be sure since he didn't follow his brother to Hagrid's hut every day, but he knew the dragon had hatched, that Hagrid called him Norbert and that Malfoy had been smirking far too much towards the trio's direction to _not_  know. What a mess; almost as much as Ron's hand that Norbert had treated as his new chew toy.

And then, four days after that incident, Harry heard that his brother, Hermione and Neville -and who could have seen that one coming- had cost Gryffindor house one hundred and fifty points in a single night, trying to snuggle the dragon out of the castle. And landed themselves a detention. Ruddy hell. And the detention, as Severus found out from a raging Minerva McGonagall, was to be at the Forbidden Forest.

"The Forbidden Forest?" Harry chocked out in disbelief.

"I don't know what your brother said, but he must have really angered Minerva." Severus agreed.

"But we can't let them into the forest alone!" Harry exclaimed, crazy scenarios weaving themselves into his head.

"No we can't." Severus stated thoughtfully before smirking. "You know, maybe it's time to give those wolf forms of us a chance to run in their natural environment. Don't you think so?" The answering smirk he got a perfect copy of his own. And so it was decided; next night found Harry leaving the Common Room after his brother and rushing to meat Severus at the exit of the dungeons; it took him a little longer than was expected since Adrian had forgotten the cloak, apparently, in the astronomy tower while smuggling Norbert out. None of them had mentioned that to their parents of course as the hazel eyed Potter twin had received his second Holwer this year even with that little detail left untold.

"About time." Severus whispered to him the moment he turned around the corner. "Filch just took Adrian and the rest out to the grounds; he always tends to give those serving detentions long speeches though, so we should have enough time. Harry nodded and they left, two hooded figures hiding in the shadows approaching the forest quickly. Once they were hidden, they placed their wands inside the holsters Severus had got them -ingenious inventions really that tightened or loosened with the animagus's transforming body, allowing them to carry their wands on their person even when transformed- and turned themselves into a pair of black wolves. Severus, who was more familiar with the Forbidden Forest, led the way.

They ran swiftly through the thick trees, sense of sight and hearing much improved in that form. A light between the branches ahead and the voice of Hagrid chastising Filch informed them that they had reached their destination. They watched as the small group of six -if you included Hagrid's dog Fang- split in two, following the silvery traces on the forest floor; unicorn blood. Harry turned to look at Severus who just shook his head; he hadn't heard anything about unicorn blood. This was bad, really bad. Only one person -if he could be called that- they knew of was desperate enough to kill unicorns for their blood and, if their assumptions where correct, Adrian was in a whole more lot of trouble than they initially thought.

Adrian was in the same group with Hermione and Hagrid at the beginning; they met with two centaurs in their way, Bane and Roran, that seemed intent on repeating that Mars was shining unusually bright that night. Harry wasn't truly professed in the centaur's version of soothsaying -not that he was in the wizards' techniques, but he digressed- still, them repeating it over and over couldn't be good. But those two were actual centaurs and, despite his worry, he couldn't help but feel a little awed. The groups soon changed, after a rather stupid move on Malfoy's part that made Severus growl viciously, and Adrian found himself stuck with the blond and Hagrid's dog.

As luck would have it, they followed the trail that led them straight into the clearing where the dead unicorn lay. Harry's heart tightened in his chest; the image of the unicorn dead on the ground seemed fundamentally wrong; his mind quickly entertained the idea of what a war-unicorn, who had ways of defending itself much more aggressively than its white haired cousin, would have done to its assailant. Now  _that_  would be a sight.

Not that he got to ponder on the mental image of the Dark Lord being chased around by an angry, seven feet tall war-unicorn for more than a few seconds. A hooded figure entered the clearing and bowed down next to the unicorn, drinking its blood. A blood-churning scream later -courtesy of one Draco Malfoy- the hooded figure that could be no other than Lord Voldemort himself, stood straight and started advancing towards the frozen older Potter twin. Harry was ready to transform back and do… he didn't know  _what_  exactly. Something.  _Anything_. But what?

The sound of approaching hoods stopped him as a third centaur, a younger one, with ash blond hair and a palomino body, jumped behind a tree and attacked the hooded figure. Voldemort run -more like floated- away and the centaur approached Adrian.

As he introduced himself as Firenze, Harry felt close to crying; his brother was almost attacked by the Dark Lord, right there, in front of his own two eyes. His heart was beating like crazy, his mind was clouded. His brother had almost died and he had done nothing but stare. He followed Severus who in turn followed Firenze who had taken Adrian on his back and was leading him to Hagrid. He barely registered the two angry centaurs they crossed paths with and the relief never reached his heart once his brother was reunited with the rest of the group.

He felt worthless; all of his training and he had done  _nothing_ , his brain freezing in fear. What if Firenze hadn't been there? Would he have acted in time or would Severus have had to intervene? The potions master led them back to where they had entered the forest and reversed the animagus transformation, soon standing in front of the green eyed boy back to his normal self, waiting for him to do the same.

He could instinctively tell something was wrong with the boy, more than the shock of just meeting with the most feared Dark wizard of the century. And when Harry did transform back, one look into his misty eyes was all it took to confirm his fears. He didn't know what was going on in Harry's head and the boy had the tendency to think too much. He didn't know what to do to fix whatever was wrong. All Severus could do was hold Harry tight as he cried with a desperation he had never witnessed in the boy before.


	23. Through The Trapdoor

Severus was observing Harry from a distance; for the first few days after they had returned from the Forbidden Forest, the boy seemed like a shadow of himself, not making eye contact, stealing glances at his brother just to assure himself he was still there. And then, out of the blue, a few days before the exams started, a new fire started burning in Harry's eyes and he talked to Severus about just what had happened.

The potions master couldn't believe in his ears; was Harry seriously blaming himself for being scared upon meeting the Dark Lord essentially for the first time? Upon witnessing said Dark Lord drinking unicorn's blood in a dark clearing inside the Forbidden Forest? Everybody would be scared, hell, he had been scared too! And he made sure to tell him so; after all, only a fool or a madman could stand in front of such a scene and not feel fear and Harry was neither. But what he had to say, even if it soothed the boy's guilt -and it was just like Harry to feel guilty about something he could not control, that incorrigible, lovable son of his- did nothing to quench that fire in his eyes.

Harry had seen Voldemort, had felt for the first time just how real the threat he posed was and he was determined to fight. The potions master didn't know if he should be terrified or not, seeing Harry so decided. He probably would have been -he was always afraid something would happen to the boy, he couldn't help it- if he wasn't so proud at the same time.

Harry on his part had done his best to overcome his guilt; in all truth, he couldn't say he had succeeded completely, but a late night realization while he was revising for his Transformation exam made him snap out of his self-pitying. What in Merlin's name was he doing? He was supposed to be training, he was supposed to be improving! He felt so angry at himself for not reacting so he had decided to pick up a book and hide behind it? His anger flared and burned away any traces of fear that might have been left behind; it flared, it rose and burned and with a final burst dispersed, leaving behind clarity and calmness as such he had never felt before.

He would train. He would improve. And he would never allow himself to freeze in a situation like that again. He couldn't promise to himself that he wouldn't be afraid, for his heart he could not control and really, how many times had Severus warned him against trying? But he wouldn't allow his fear to stop him again. And Harry had chuckled, his heart lighter than it had been for days. He had run down the stairs to the Common Room and gave his brother a tight one armed hug, leaving him startled.

"What was that about?" Adrian, who was deep in a conversation with Ron and Hermione, asked.

"I just finished what I needed to review for Transformation and felt like sharing." Harry stated with a wide grin, before walking back to his bed to actually finish revising.

"See what studying too much can do to you, Hermione?" He heard Ron ask as he walked away. "You should stop before you lose your marbles too." Harry had spent his days since then studying as always, his decisiveness reinforced. The exams passed like a breeze, for him at least. Hermione had seemed determined to surpass his scores but even she stepped back after Harry transformed the mouse he was given to a snuffle box made of pure gold and precious stones, its design so ornate even Professor McGonagall had to pause before smiling widely at him.

The last exam -History of Magic- came to an end in a general atmosphere of joy; they were finally done! The results would be out in a week and, with the last Quidditch game two days later, the official end of their first year at Hogwarts was nigh. Harry's good mood lasted only up to the moment when he caught sight of his brother's shocked face as he dragged Ron and Hermione with him towards Haggrid's hut; something told him that Adrian had finally wondered where Norbert's dragon egg had come from. He and Severus had already drawn the conclusion that the incident had Quirrell's name written all over it. The chance it was a coincidence was one in the million if one considered the timing and Harry and Severus had taken that Quirrell knew how to get past Fluffy as a given. All he was missing now was the opportunity.

With that knowledge, the potions master had sent Nicholas a letter, telling him of his worries, but the alchemist, knowing that if the Stone wasn't safe in Hogwarts then it wasn't safe anywhere, answered that he would take his chances. Harry had sighed and hoped they would be able to stop any attempts Quirrell made. He was returning from Severus's office after reading that letter, thinking of how he might yet persuade Nicholas to hide the stone elsewhere. He entered the Common Room with a sigh, not really expecting to find anyone awake so late at night; he should have known better; right there, in the middle of the floor, lay the clearly petrified body of one Neville Longbottom.

Harry's mind jumped into action; Neville had clearly been petrified after everybody else had already gone to sleep, or else someone would have noticed. And since the chances of an outside attack targeted on Neville was highly unlikely, it must have been one of the Gryffindors that had casted the  _Petrificus Totalus_. The only reason to do it would be if Neville got in their way. And after the one hundred and fifty points lost and a detention in the Forbidden Forest, there were only three people Neville might oppose to sneaking out at night. Besides, there were only three people that might have reason to. And who knows how long they were gone already.  _Oh brother, what have you done?_

Harry turned around immediately without alerting Neville -who seemed to have dozed off anyway- to his presence. He left the Common Room in a daze, heading for the third floor and the forbidden corridor, his wand in hand. He wanted to go and get Severus first, but one second of delay might even be too much. The green eyed boy ran as fast as his feet could take him, not caring -maybe hoping at that point- if he met with a teacher on his way. He didn't though and by the time he reached the forbidden corridor he was in a half mad state. Fluffy was barking from behind the door and only then did Harry realize he had no idea how to get past him. But for once subtlety wasn't the point; if he had to tear a Cerberus to pieces in order to get to his brother then so be it. He pushed the door open softly, not wanting to alert the dog of his presence immediately.

The dog was barking over the open trapdoor, making it clear that someone had gone through him; at least his brother had survived that. He scanned the room quickly, his attention being drawn by two things; one, the invisibility cloak was discarded on the floor. Two, a harp lay half broken a few feet away. There was only one reason why the harp should be there. With a quick  _Reparo_  that got the dog's attention the harp was as good as new. Another flick of his wand made the harp strings produced sound; the spell wasn't going to last for long, and the sound produced couldn't be classified as a tune exactly, but it seemed to affect Fluffy nonetheless; his eyes closed and he fell on the floor in a heap. Harry grabbed the cloak, threw it around himself and walked towards the trapdoor.

He cast a  _Lumos_  down the trapdoor, the beam from his wand illuminating what appeared to be some type of a crawling plant. Highly doubting the possibility Dumbledore had asked Professor Sprout to plant honeysuckle, Harry held on his wand and jumped. The plant did break his fall and then proceeded to try and break his bones, vines encircling his legs, marking the plant as a Devil's Snare.

"I don't have time for this…" Harry mumbled and pointed his wand at the plant. " _Incedio_!" Bright red flames erupted from his wand, causing the plant to retreat close to the wall. The boy took off running the same second. The next door he pushed led him to a room where thousands of multicolored birds fluttered around; three broomsticks were thrown haphazardly next to the exit door and Harry could only guess who had used them. He approached the door to find it locked and he instinctively knew there was no spell he could cast that would get him through without the key. And speaking of keys…

He looked up again; the birds turned out to not be birds at all, but winged keys. And the one he was looking for must be old, the boy thought, and large, silver and tattered if it had already been used twice. He picked up a broom and took off, his eyes searching manically for the right key. And he found it a few moments later, his Seeker talent coming through, with almost jerky movements, he placed it in the keyhole and opened the door. He tightened his grip on his wand, secured the cloak around him and opened the door. There seemed to be a huge chessboard in front of him while an open door waited for him across the room.

For a few seconds he was afraid he would have to play his way through when luck decided to be on his side. A disheveled and crying Hermione appeared amongst the rumbles, running towards the chessboard her eyes stuck somewhere in the left corner of the room where a passed out Ron lay; Harry had no time to stop. Whishing the redhead was okay, he saw his chance and took it, running across the room the same time as Hermione. The presence of someone who had apparently already beat the chessboard proved to be enough to stop a second game from beginning.

The stench coming from the next chamber was enough to forewarn him of what was to come before the fainted troll came into view. Harry doubled his speed; only one trial left, he knew. And then the final chamber where his brother stood alone with Quirrell, or even Voldemort. Flames engulfed both entrance and exit as he walked through the second to last door. The message on the parchment Severus had left was clear and Harry debated his choices. There it was, he figured, picking up the small vial; there was barely enough left for one person. Not pausing to think he just gulped it down and walked through the black flames, the icy sensation of the potion boding well with the cold feeling in his chest.

He walked hastily towards the next chamber only to pause in shock with what he found. Quirrell was there as expected and so was his brother, mercifully still standing even if he was wrapped in thick rope head to toe, and behind them the very same mirror he had held his brother so captivated six months ago. The mirror that showed your heart's deepest desire. How good could it be that it was in this chamber? Not very good, Harry could bet on that. Quirrell went on explaining how he had let the troll in the school and how he worked for Voldemort. Adrian put up a brave front, but Harry could tell he was intimidated.

"I see the Stone… I'm presenting it to my master… But where is it?" Quirrell mumbled to himself, turning his back on Adrian who just stood petrified. "Maybe the Stone is inside the mirror. Do I have to break it?" The Defense teacher was getting more agitated by the second. "What does this mirror do? How does it work? Help me, Master!" Harry stood petrified as a voice answered to his plea, seemingly coming out of Quirrell himself.

"Use the boy… Use the boy…" Quirrell turned to wards Adrian and, with a flick of his wrist the ropes bidding Adrian into place disappeared and the boy was free too move. Quirrell ordered him to get close and look into the mirror. That's just what Adrian did. Harry couldn't understand what was going on.

"Well?" Asked Quirrell impatiently. "What do you see?"

"I-I'm shaking hands with Dumbledore." Adrian stated. Harry knew his brother well enough to tell he was lying. "I've won the House Cup for Gryffindor." Quirrell cursed again and pushed the boy aside. Adrian seemed to take the hint and decided to run. He turned around, his hand clutching over his pocket. And it was at that vey second that Harry realized his brother had somehow gotten the Philosopher's Stone.

"He lies… He lies…" The high voice sounded again, coming from Quirrell without him ever moving his lips.

"Potter, come back here!" Adrian didn't stop. "I said come back!" And he pulled his wand to cast a quick Stupefy; Adrian fell head first on the floor and there he lay as the voice spoke again.

"So this is how it ends… Adrian Potter, the Boy Who Lived will die tonight… Let me look at him before he dies… I have waited ten years for this…" The voice said as Harry moved closer quietly his wand pointing at Quirrell under his cloak; he was ready to do anything that might be needed...

"Master, you're not strong enough!" Quirrell protested.

"I have strength enough… for this…" The voice insisted and Quirrell started unwrapping his turban slowly until it was all gone and then turned around. Harry bit into his cheek as not to scream; he bit so hard he could taste the coppery tang of his own blood. So that was Lord Voldemort? He looked at the man that had tried to kill him and his brother as babies, the man that was threatening his brother's life once again, or at least what was left of him. A deformed, snakelike face with red eyes stood where the back of Quirrell's head should be, looking at his fainted brother with pure malice.

"We meet again, Adrian Potter." Voldemort said. "I expected more from you; at least last time we faced each other you managed to look me in the eyes." He scoffed. "You won't get a second chance. Kill him off and take the Stone; it's on him somewhere!" The Dark Lord ordered with a cold voice.

"Yes, Master." Quirrell said obediently, almost reverently.

"Goodbye, Adrian Potter." Voldemort said as Quirrell turned towards the fainted boy. As Voldemort was talking, all the fear Harry felt, the mortification of his brother's impending doom that had caused him to freeze, instantly transformed to red hot anger and from that to a scorching white rage. Voldemort was a monster and Quirrell was helping him. The Dark Lord tarnished what he touched, polluted it, eradicated it. And now he went after his brother. One of his first lessons in alchemy crept into his troubled thoughts as he grasped his wand tight under the cloak.

"If all else fails, Harry, always remember; fire purges all that is impure." Nicholas's voice rang inside his head. In the years to come, Harry would look back and wonder how he had managed to do what he did; it wasn't that he had practiced a wordless spell before. All he would remember afterwards was that, as Quirrell raised his wand towards Adrian, he had pointed his against him and had pushed all his will to one single incantation, the only large scale spell he knew;

" _Saevit Infernalis!_ " And though not a sound left his lips, a large, deep red wave of flames sprung from his wand and hit Quirrell -who was leaning over Adrian, ready to deliver the final strike- straight into his chest, throwing him to the other side of the room. The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher screamed with all he had as the fire, instead of going out, grew and grew, spinning around him like an infernal tornado, engulfing him and spreading upwards, the flame tongues licking the ceiling.

Dark smoke, faintly reminiscent of a human form, flew from the raging flames to the room and out the door with a terrible scream; the Dark Lord had abandoned Quirrell and was fleeing the battle. He passed over Adrian as he flew, cursing him again for whatever magic it was that was stored in him that had almost caused his demise for a second time.

All Harry could do was look at the Dark Lord as he escaped. He wanted to run at his brother, he wanted to make sure he was safe, that he was alive but his body refused to cooperate as his brain finally caught up to what he had done; the flames still raged on, and Quirrell was inside them; there was no way he could escape them. He had killed him. He had  _killed_. Instead of going towards his brother he took a step backwatds, his hand -still grasping his wand- falling limp on his side and under the cloak. A few seconds ticked by as the flames began to disperse. Harry barely registered footsteps echoing swiftly on the corridor behind him and only noticed Albus Dumbledore when he passed him by.

The older man took a look at the flames frozen before leaning over Adrian. Harry couldn't take this any longer. Barely controlling his own two feet, he walked like he was under the Imperius curse until he reached the exit of the chamber. When the light from the fire he had ignited stopped painting the walls orange, it was like a haze lifted from his head, and the full weight of what he'd done hit him like a tone of bricks; he broke into a mad sprint and tried to outrun his memories and guilt, heading towards the exit. He used a retraction spell to climb up the trapdoor, barely aware of his own actions. Fluffy was still asleep from whatever spell Dumbledore had casted on him but Harry didn't stop to watch. He just kept running, not even noticing the cloak sliding from his shoulders and down to the floor, a few feet from the three headed dog.

He flew down the stairs, almost tripping and falling twice, but he didn't care; he kept running. His breath was coming out in short puffs, but he didn't let that stop him; he kept running. His lungs were burning from the overexertion but he ignored them; he had to keep running. There were no torches lit at that hour in the dungeons so he kept going in the dark, not bothering to shed light on his way; he would be alright as long as he kept running.

He reached a familiar door and started banging on it with all his might, not caring about who would listen. Severus opened the door confused; he had just finished reading on something relevant to his Wolfsbane research and was about to turn in for the night. He tried to ask Harry what had happened but his pale face and tearstained cheeks silenced him; he simply opened the door wider and let him walk inside his office, locking the door behind them.

"What happened, Harry?" He asked but the boy remained silent, his eyes unfocused, as if he had fallen in some sort of trance.

"I met Voldemort." The boy stated softly after a few minutes of silence. Severus gasped as he felt the world spinning around him.  _What_?

"Harry…"

"When I went back to the Common Room I realized Adrian, Ron and Hermione had gone after the Stone." Harry explained, his eyes still locked somewhere on the wall across the room, near the empty painting of Merlin's. "I followed them and found Quirrell threatening Adrian; somehow my brother got the Stone -there was that mirror there, the one I told you about last Christmas and the Stone was in it- and then I realized Voldemort was there too. He was possessing Quirrell or something, sharing his body. Adrian tried to escape, Quirrell knocked him out and Voldemort ordered him dead." The boy stopped, tears flowing down his face again, falling from unblinking eyes.

"Harry, is Adrian alright?" Severus said fearing for the worst. Harry shrugged.

"He was still unconscious when I left him, but Dumbledore had just arrived. I guess he'll be fine." If Adrian wasn't the issue here, what was?

"What happened, Harry?" Severus asked for the second time that day.

"Quirrell was going to kill Adrian, Dad." The green eyed boy stated, his voice thick, looking straight at the potions master's eyes for the first time since he had walked into his office.

"But he didn't." Severus stated, not liking where this was heading; had Dumbledore stopped Voldemort in time?

"No he didn't." Harry agreed, his voice breaking, his body trembling. "Because I killed him first." And the boy fell to his knees and wept.


	24. Of Guilt And Grief

Severus couldn't believe his ears. Harry had had to…  _Merlin_   _no!_  He was just a child. Not even twelve yet and he had had to… Voldemort would _die_ , Severus decided there and then; maybe it wouldn't be by his own hand, but he was going to help and, if he got his way, that bastard would die slowly and painfully. The potions master kneeled down and held Harry close; it took some effort as the boy didn't seem to want to be touched. Severus knew the feeling all too well.

"Harry, look at me." He ordered, his voice clearly indicating he would not be ignored. Harry did look up, his green eyes looking lost. "I know it feels like hell right now but this wasn't your fault, Harry."

"But I killed him! I stood there, raised my wand and killed him! I  _burned_  him, Sev!" Harry said, his voice almost unrecognizable from the pain. He sounded older, as if he had aged a decade in the last hour. Severus closed his eyes and sighed.

"When I was nineteen, Harry, just about a year and a half before you were born, I was under Dumbledore's orders, spying for the Order amongst the Death Eater lines." The potions master said and Harry looked at him confused. At least I have his attention, Severus thought. "I was sixteen when I joined the Dark Lord, not even out of school yet; I wasn't the only one from my House who joined him that year. There was this boy, Benjamin Alexander; he was a fifth year, but Voldemort never cared much about how old his recruits were. He was a shy kid, from a poor family, and only joined so that he wouldn't be shunned for his humble origins. When I turned eighteen and left school, I offered myself to the Order's beck and call, trying to make something good out of the worst mistake of my life. Benjamin… he took a different path."

"But what does that have to do with…" Harry began and Severus stopped him before he could continue with his question.

"You'll see." The potions master assured him with a sad smile. "As I was saying, Benjamin followed a different road; he had always had a malleable character and his involvement with the Dark Arts in the end corrupted him…"

" _There's no good and evil… There's only power and those too weak to seek it."_ Something Quirrell had said to his brother rang into Harry's mind. Had Quirrell always been like this?

"By the time I turned nineteen, I was a full-time spy for the Order and he was one of Voldemort's best; he tortured indiscriminately, he killed who he was told to kill and then some, he never showed mercy." Severus seemed lost in his thoughts of a time much darker than the present. "One night, Voldemort had sent a group of Death Eaters to search for some of the Order's members in hiding; I was paired with Benjamin. Despite my efforts for the opposite, we located a wizard and a member of the Order that had been married with a Muggle; he had three kids, all under five years of age. Benjamin crushed into their house before I managed to get there; he didn't feel like waiting. By the time I reached the house he had already tortured the mother with the Cruciatus for half an hour and had made the kids watch. Once he saw me he laughed _._ " Severus clenched his eyes shut. "He _laughed_ , Harry, and told me to pick which one of the kids I would like to kill first. And to prove his point, he cast the Killing Curse on the mother, right in front of my eyes. The children were crying, the father looked lost and I could do nothing to help. Benjamin said that, since I couldn't make up my mind, he would pick first; he pointed his wand at the youngest child, a girl of two, just a baby."

"And what happened?" Harry asked, his voice sounding less haunted now, the tears had stopped falling from his eyes.

"I  _did_  choose; I chose Benjamin." Severus stated. "I had known him since he was eleven, but the boy I knew and the man he had become were two different people altogether. I cast an  _Avada Kedavra_  on him and altered the memories of the family so that they wouldn't remember my face and left. I had never felt emptier in my life." Severus admitted closing his eyes again; he had never shared that story with anybody before; he had never thought he would, but this seemed to be the right time. He felt a soft touch on his hand, and opened his eyes to see Harry had placed his palm over his clenched fist.

"It's wasn't your fault, Dad." The boy said. "He would have killed that girl if you hadn't stopped him; he was too far gone."

"Yes, he would have killed that girl." Severus agreed. "And what would Quirrell have done had you not stopped him?" The boy remained silent. "Harry?"

"He would have killed Adrian." Harry mumbled.

"Yes he would have. How could you  _not_  protect your brother, Harry?" Severus asked.

"I could have disarmed him… I could have…"

"You couldn't have." Severus stated. "Quirrell was possessed by Voldemort; disarming him wouldn't have done you any good at all." Severus stated.

"But…"

"Besides, Harry," Severus continued "Quirrell died the moment he relinquished his body to the Dark Lord. Voldemort used him merely as a vessel; he would have never allowed him to live. It would be like having a living, breathing testimony of his weakest hour and he would never allow that." Severus stated. "I also doubt that Quirrell would have survived Voldemort leaving his body after being fused with him for so long. No, he has been dead since he agreed to this."

"And you… you don't hate me?" Harry asked. "Don't you think I'm just like him?"

"No! Of course I don't hate you!" Severus protested loudly, grasping the boy's shoulders and giving him a good shake. "And you're  _nothing_  like him; even if it wasn't for the fact that you were saving your brother's life, you stand here now, crying over the death of a man that would have killed you in a heartbeat." A new hope sparkled in the boy's eyes as he took the potions master's words in. Maybe he wasn't on his way on being the next dark lord as he feared.

"But why does it hurt?" He asked earnestly, his eyes wide. Severus felt the moisture gather in his own eyes but tried to keep himself together for Harry's sake.

"Because you  _care_ , Harry. And because you care, you could never take a life lightly." Severus stated with a smile. "I just want you to understand something; if ever your life is in danger, or if the life of someone you care about is threatened, you can't hesitate. Promise me you will always look after yourself in such a case, Harry." The boy was still pale, but the first shock was slowly leaving his system, the pure relief of both him and his brother being alive and Voldemort averted piercing the armor of terror his recent experiences had created around his heart.

"I promise." He said in a small voice; at least it was steadier than before.

"Now, I want you to do me a favor." Severus said. "I'm going to make you a mild dreamless potion and I want you to take it and try to sleep for a while." Noticing his panicking expression he elaborated. "You can sleep here, on the couch, but you have to; you're running on adrenaline right now and it won't last long." Harry wanted to complain, but his eyelids suddenly felt heavy. Maybe he was tired. Just a little bit. He moved towards the couch and Severus quickly mixed a few ingredients in a glass vial. Once the process was done, he gave the potion to Harry.

"What about Adrian?" The boy asked looking at the potion.

"I'll go check on him for you; besides, I doubt he will awaken before morning." The potions master assured him. "And I'll cover for you being out of your Dormitory too; you just rest." Harry nodded once, placing his wand -he was still clutching it in one hand- in his holster and sculling the potion down in one gulp, making himself comfortable amongst the soft pillows Severus had on his couch.

"And, Dad?" Harry asked, slightly yawning.

"Yes, Harry?"

"I love you." The boy stated and closed his eyes.

"I love you too, son." The potions master stated and kissed the top of his head affectionately. "And I'm proud of you." The boy's breath evened out and Severus closed his eyes and let out a long breath of relief. A part of him wanted to cry; deep down he knew that Harry would eventually have to fight and, being the one meant to stop Voldemort, even be involved in a fight in which he would have to end somebody's life. But for it to happen so soon…

Oh yes, there was a part of him that wanted to cry till morning. But there was another part of him, the part that won out, that just wanted to break something. He pulled out his wand and left the room, going down the hallway and entering one of the large storage rooms that could be found in the dungeons; this one was filled with old desks and other piece of furniture no longer used in the school; the ceiling was tall and arched, piles of wooden furnishing reaching high. Perfect.

Severus closed the door behind him, locked it, placed a silencing charm on it and turned his wand towards the piles of furniture. His thoughts were a jumbled mess and his eyesight was bleary as he started casting spells to all directions. And though no noise could be heard outside, Severus howled spells right and left, reducing bookcases and school desks to splinters. How had he allowed this to happen?

Another pile of desks exploded under a rapid succession of bludgeoning spells. The potions master looked around, a feral glint in his eyes. He spotted yet another pile and some little part of his brain rejoiced that Hogwarts seemed to have so many spare furnishings. Why could he not protect harry when he needed him the most?

He cast every single exploding spell he could think of, breaking and crashing whatever he could find around him, the minutes flying by as he vented his frustration. He looked around the room frantically, trying to locate something else to destroy; there was nothing left. He paused looking at the charred pieces of wood that used to be furniture. Had he really done all this? He sighed. But of course he had.

His brain somehow more collected now, he started repairing what he had broken; not everything was salvageable -there was a pool of molten metal on the floor that Severus simply cleaned up not remembering anything metallic ever being in the room, let alone melting it- but the room didn't look much different after he was done. He returned to his office to check on Harry, who was still asleep.

It was pure luck that he returned when he did, because a couple of minutes later, a startled Minerva McGonagall knocked on his door. Her face was pale, her lips forming a thin line. Some of the anxiousness in her look turned into relief and then confusion as her eyes fell on the sleeping Potter twin on Severus's couch.

"So, Harry is here?" She asked shocked. "We've been searching everywhere… I had begun to fear he was…"

"Harry came running in my office about half an hour ago; he woke up to get some water and found his brother gone." He explained. "I never got the details as he was quite startled himself; he told me that his brother knew about the three headed dog and that he feared he might have gone to the forbidden corridor. Harry himself doesn't seem to know more than what he heard from his brother on the subject, but I fear Adrian might know more about what lies beneath that trapdoor than would be prudent." Severus tried to keep his expression as neutral as he spoke, a task extremely difficult as his heart was hammering in his chest, every heartbeat bringing yet another sting of pain as he thought how many things could have gone tragically wrong that night. "I just persuaded Harry to drink a dreamless potion and I was on my way to inform you. But why were you looking for him?"

"Harry was right and so were you." Minerva explained, taking of her glasses to rub her eyes. "Adrian found out about the Stone and went down the trapdoor himself with Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger tonight. Both he and Weasley are unconscious right now. I didn't manage to get much, but He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was involved and Albus said that so was Quirrell. Adrian stopped them from getting the Stone, Severus!" Minerva exclaimed. "Merlin knows how, but he did it!" Severus closed his eyes and sighed gently. Yes, Minerva;  _Adrian_. One day you will know…

"Have the Potters' been alerted of tonight's events?" He asked, trying to change the subject slightly.

"Yes, but when we tried to get Harry…" She paused and glanced at the sleeping boy. "But why didn't he come to me when he couldn't find his brother? I'm the Head of his House after all!" And her eyes turned disbelieving on Severus.

"And -as you know but seem to forget- I'm the one that helped raise him." Severus stated in what he hoped to be a calm voice, even if he couldn't prevent the icy undertone that laced his words. Minerva's eyes widened before turning to the ground.

"Of course, Severus." She simply stated recomposing herself. "We should go to Albus; he has requested your presence too, along with the rest of the staff." Severus nodded.

"Just let me write a quick note for Harry; the potion wasn't very strong and he might wake up before I return. He will want to know his brother is safe." Minerva nodded and left the office, after informing him that the meeting was to be held in Dumbledore's office. Severus pulled out a parchment and wrote down what Minerva had told him and what he had told her in turn to cover for him. He explained that Adrian was alright and placed a spell that would make the parchment appear blank until Harry cast the correct spell. He folded the note and wrote Harry's name on the back before going to attend the meeting.

The Potters had arrived about an hour after Harry had burst into his office, close to three thirty in the morning. They had been extremely worried, as was natural, and were soon joined by Sirius Black and Remus Lupin. Severus just observed them from a distance, having half a mind to comfort a tear-stained Lily. She was still his friend, no matter what. But he couldn't go near as both her husband and his mutt of a friend would skin him alive. All four of them, Lupin included, were hovering around Adrian's bed, Lily sitting on a chair holding her son's hand.

"What happened to him, Albus?" James asked the headmaster the moment he stepped into the infirmary.

"It's a long story I fear…" He started only to be stopped by a growl, coming, apparently, from Sirius.

"We have time; start talking.  _Now._ " Sirius's tone was icy and completely the opposite from what Severus had expected of him. Maybe the mutt wasn't all that bad after all, the potions master thought, fighting the urge to smirk.

"As you wish." And he began to explain about the Philosopher's Stone and how it was kept in the school. Once that part was finished he explained how Adrian had somehow found out about the Stone and how he had stopped Voldemort from getting it.

"Voldemort was here?" Lupin asked, his gold-flecked eyes zeroing on the headmaster.

"Yes, he was."

"And how did my son stop him?" Lily asked, speaking for the first time since she saw her son. Because he's amazing, Severus thought, his mind straying to the boy sleeping in his office. That would be an interesting question to hear answered anyways.

"When I reached him, Adrian was unconscious and Quirrell -who had served as Lord Voldemort's vessel- was being consumed by flames. There was barely anything left of him by the time the flames died down." Albus stated seriously.

"Flames?" James asked. "Albus, are you trying to say that… What are you trying to say?" James asked staring at the headmaster, not really wanting to believe what he was hearing.

"It appears that Adrian, once again, managed to reach the same magic that helped him stop Voldemort the first time. His magic reacted to threat once again and saved him." Albus explained. Severus knew he should be relieved they didn't suspect Harry for anything but a part of him wanted the boy to be credited for his accomplishments for once. This wasn't the right time…

"How could you not know, Albus?" Lily asked, never taking her eyes from her son. "How could Adrian enter that room with you not knowing?"

"I never expected anyone to get past the Cerberus, Lily." He admitted gravely. "I thought the Stone protected; how could I expect three children, barely twelve years old would try to reach it?" Well, one would suffice, Severus thought. The Weasleys arrived at that moment, running towards Ron who lay in the bed next to Adrian. It was only when the twins and Percy arrived, still wearing their pajamas, that anyone asked about Harry.

"He's sleeping in my office." Severus stated as James's eyes looked at him accusingly.

"And why is that exactly?" He asked, his eyes narrowing. Severus, glad he had taken the time to take that room to pieces so he could suppress the urge to hex James into oblivion, proceeded to tell him what he had told Minerva.

"I believe he feels guilty for knowing Adrian had gone near that dog and not telling anyone; he seemed convinced that his brother was somehow harmed and that he could have prevented it." Severus offered. Not that far off the truth and would explain some of Harry's guilt. James seemed to step back after that. Severus left the infirmary and accompanied Albus back to the chambers under the trapdoor. The Headmaster gathered the invisibility cloak from the floor where it lay and looked at it with a sigh.

"Tricky cloak that one; meant to protect but helped his current owner to get in danger splendidly, wouldn't you say, Severus?" The potions master couldn't care less about the cloak but nodded nonetheless; the Headmaster had always been interested in it. Severus braced himself as he was about to see just what Harry had been through. Minerva, Fillius and Pomona Sprout joined them so that a better estimation of what had happened could be made.

The Devil's Snare was self-explanatory, even if most of the evidence of what had happened there was covered up by the burn marks Dumbledore himself caused in the room while trying to reach Adrian. That was lucky, Severus pondered. They had used the broomsticks and the correct key to get through, even if Flitwick did say that somebody tried an  _Alohamora_  spell on the lock. Minerva was still in denial that twelve year olds could win against her enchanted chessboard but Severus reminded her that they had gone through his trial just as easily. His greatest shock came when he entered the chamber where the Stone had been hidden. There was that mirror Harry had told him about and Severus made a point of not looking into it; he already knew what he wanted the most; seeing it might have been too much. But it wasn't the mirror that caught his attention.

The far wall of the chamber was scorched, the golden-beige coloured stones that composed the rest of the room turned black. Another blackened circular mark was on the floor, its diameter close to ten, maybe eleven feet. And in the middle of the circle lay something that looked like it had once been the owner of the purple cloth -that had once been a turban- lying in front of the mirror. Severus could see why Harry was so scared when he walked into his office. Whatever spell he had used, it had been powerful; it was a wonder how he had managed to cast it, control it and then walk -let alone run as he suspected the boy had done- all these floors down to his office. It was serious spellwork and it normally should have taken a great toll on his strength at his age. Then again, Harry had never done things normally.

"Did Adrian do that?" Pomona gasped. No, as a matter of fact he didn't, Severus thought behind his Occlumency walls; not that he believed Dumbledore would try something in his state of shock, but it never hurt to be cautious.

"Yes, he did." Dumbledore affirmed. Severus glanced at the burned stones and the remains of the man that had tried to kill Adrian Potter and wished -for the hundredth time that night- that he had been able to deal with him instead of Harry.

He was deep in thought when he returned to his office at the break of dawn and almost collided with Harry as the boy exited his office, the note he had written him in hand. The boy looked at him expectantly.

"How's Adrian?" He asked his eyes wide with worry. "Has he come around yet?"

"He was still out when I left the infirmary; he got himself a rather nasty bump on the head but Madam Pomfrey is certain he will be fine in the morning. He should be up any time now." Harry sighed in relief and Severus opened the door to his office so they could talk uninterrupted for a while.

"I had figured he would have hit his head; he fell on the floor rather hard after Quirrell cast a stunner on him…" The boy's green eyes turned to the floor as he mentioned Quirrell's name.

"If you hadn't done what you did Harry, your brother wouldn't be waking up." The potions master reminded him. He quickly explained what he had told his parents had happened and they worked on Harry's story for a while. Half an hour later, the boy got ready to visit his brother.

"And, Sev?" He asked turning back from the door.

"Yes, Harry?"

"Thanks; I kind of lost it back there." Harry admitted.

"Considering everything Harry, you handled it great." Harry nodded. "Just enjoy being alive, Harry, and having your brother alive too. Go see him; I have a letter to write for both of us; we have to inform Nicholas."

"I will try to enjoy myself; say 'hi' to Nicholas from me." Harry entered the infirmary only to be enveloped in his mother arms; he listened to the formal version of what had happened last night and he offered the story they had come up with Severus. He had woken up for some water and didn't find Adrian and Ron in their beds; he found Neville paralyzed on the floor and he ran to inform Severus afraid of the worst as he had heard his brother talk about what exactly lay behind the locked door in the forbidden corridor. His story was easily accepted.

Adrian woke up sometime after eleven, Ron having woken up two hours prior. He explained what had happened from his side, how he found out about the Stone -Harry pretended to be surprised, not quite successfully as he was still quite shocked himself. Thankfully, nobody paid him any attention at the moment- and why he had gone after it.

"And when we heard professor Dumbledore was out of the school we knew that…" Professor McGonagall was the one that cut Adrian's narration short, blowing her nose loudly in her -very much plaid- handkerchief.

"They came to me and I told them that the Stone was safe!" Everybody looked at her in shock, not being used into such outbursts from the strict professor. Harry, who had come to understand how much guilt can weigh on you, decided to speak.

"You couldn't have known, professor." Everybody turned to look at him, the shock transferring from the crying Transfiguration teacher to her green-eyed student. "The headmaster himself didn't suspect anything and left the school; how could you know?"

"He's right, Minnie." Sirius seconded. "You had no way of knowing." It was a mark of how disturbed Minerva was as she didn't tell him off for the nickname. They talked a bit more, along with the Weasleys and Hermione when the matter turned to more school orientated matters. The Headmaster informed them that rumors had started flying across the school already and how a few members of the Slytherin House - _Malfoy_ , Ron muttered under his breath- had tried wrecking havoc claiming Adrian was so severely injured, he had to be transferred to St. Mango's.

"Do me a favor, Harry." The hazel eyed twin spoke darkly.

"Sure, anything."

"Kick their butts in the match tomorrow!" The match? Harry thought; oh right, Quidditch. He had completely forgotten about it, but somehow the promise of something normal calmed him down a little. Life goes on I guess, he thought and nodded.

"You got it bro!" And he did just that, helping Gryffindor win their first Quidditch Cup in years. Wood was in tears for a whole hour, and the party in the Common Room went on long past midnight. The whole week after that went on smoothly with the exception of Harry's nightmares; various scenes where he reached his brother just seconds too late or simply watching himself casting that spell over and over again. Severus told him it would pass; he just had to remember he had acted to protect, he had done what was needed.

The results of the exams weren't much unexpected; Harry was at the top of his class, followed by Hermione and his brother whose training had already put him ahead of the curve. What was surprising was Gryffindor winning the House Cup, after some last minute awarded points from the Headmaster. Harry found himself at Severus's office that night, laughing merrily for a change at the potions master's disgruntled expression.

"As if losing the Quidditch Cup wasn't enough!" He exclaimed pacing up and down his office. "Were did these points come from?"

"I guess stopping Voldemort counts as an extracurricular activity?" Harry asked lightly, openly smiling for the first time since the Stone incident. They were leaving Hogwarts the next morning and Harry rejoiced knowing that in a short week he would be back home; he had missed the castle he had grown up more than he had thought he would.

"Interesting point of view." Severus stated dryly as Harry broke into laughter once again. "I will have you know…" The hooting of an owl stopped him. Finally, after a week of waiting, Nicholas had written back. Severus unfolded the letter and started reading.

"What does Nicholas say?" Harry asked.

"Hang on! I haven't made it past 'Dear Harry and Severus' yet!" The potions master stated, peering over the letter. He kept on reading. He wished he hadn't.


	25. Loss

Harry had often visualized how he would spend the first day back in Severus's castle. He figured he would be ecstatic to return home; he would do a bit of horse riding, having missed it while he was at Hogwarts. He would start working on his broomsticks project, utilizing the books Severus had bought him. He would do some more research on Animagi. He would practice alchemy, trying to grasp the concept of the last step to creating the Philosopher's Stone. He had never imagined this.

His life had changed since he read that letter in Severus's office; the potions master had read it first of course. He had turned ash pale and dropped down on his chair, the letter hanging loosely from his fingers. After getting incredibly worried and receiving no response from Severus, Harry had snatched the letter and read it for himself. And it had changed his life more than the encounter with Voldemort had managed to. He could still recall the letter by heart, the words etched in his mind, leaving painful marks upon his soul.

_Dear Harry and Severus,_

_I know this letter will not be what you expected. I know you have thought you could leave all your worries of the Stone and nothing pains me more than knowing I will add to your troubles._

_Albus approached me a few days ago, the next morning after I received your letter, and told me the official version of what happened in Hogwarts regarding the Stone. It is interesting sometimes how he ignores the truth even if it's right there, under his nose. But I digress, that is not the reason why I'm writing this letter._

_The Stone has been returned to me the same day Albus came to visit. He asked me what I was planning to do with it; I haven't told him yet. I believed I had to tell you first. I've destroyed it. Yes, I have. You are smart you two. You must already understand what that means. Perenelle and I have enough elixir still to tidy up a few affairs left and then, we will die. When you'll be reading this letter, it will be already over._

_I know you will think me cruel, saying goodbye through a letter. Had I thought a last goodbye would make our parting easier, for any of the parties concerned, I would have flooed over the moment we decided the Stone had to be destroyed. But it had to be done this way; else it would have been too much for this old heart to take._

_I would tell you to not feel sorry for us; we've lived a full life. It was longer than most, but you were the ones that filled it. Over the years it had only been Perenelle and I for far too long. And then there were you; we have always thought you the children we never had. You've brought light in the lives of two very old people and for that we are forever in your debt._

_Severus, I want you to know that I have absolute faith in you; you will succeed with your research. You will raise Harry right, as you already have and when the time is nigh, you will live your life to the fullest. I know you have to keep your secrets for now but it won't be forever._

_Harry, you have more talent in alchemy than I have ever witnessed. You remind me of myself in your age, always looking for the next discovery, never stopping, never tiring. And that curiosity! It has always been what led me too you know! You're closer than you think to unlocking the deeper mysteries of my art, but we both now that's not the end of your studies. Remember what I've told you about the Stone, Harry. I'm not the only one who's ever created it; I'm the only one who managed to use it prudently enough to not meet an untimely end because of it. You have a creative mind Harry; use it, hone it and never stop believing in yourself. You will survive this, I know._

_For the life of me, I don't know what else to say! All these thoughts in my mind and nothing relevant! I would just like you to know that Perenelle and I went on living for so long because we always hoped that we would find what truly made our lives worth it around the next corner. And we found two stubborn wizards that did just that._

_We go now, knowing that, with the Stone destroyed, there is one less danger, one way less for Voldemort to return. We have watched the first war unfold and if we can stop a second from happening, we will do it. After all, for someone who has lived as long as we have, death is nothing but the next great adventure._

_Keep living your lives, stay happy and remember my sons; your life is only beginning. Don't let anyone get in the way of your happiness. I will do my best to watch over you from wherever I am and I knew Perenelle will do the same. Forgive us for the pain we might cause you and know we have loved you like our family, our own children. Until we meet again -hopefully after a long, long time,_

_Nicholas & Perenelle Flamel_

_P.S.: You'll receive a letter from our lawyer for a private reading of our will. I hope some of the things included will help you when we won't be able to._

It had hurt. It still did as they left the Flamels' lawyer's office after the reading of the will. They hadn't even managed to be in the funeral; how would they ever explain their presence? Harry's family had been overjoyed for Adrian's recovery and had departed, in general atmosphere of happiness, for wherever they went to train Adrian. Harry had managed to cover his grief in their presence. It hadn't been really difficult if one considered the overall numbness Harry felt. With the occasional fits of anguish, emotion eluded the boy.

Nicholas had left him his private book collection that now lay in his -newly fortified with all spells known to wizards and goblins and transferred to the depths of Gringotts- vault. He had asked Severus to stop by so he could pick up some of Nicholas's notes; he needed to do something. He couldn't just stand and let time pass him by; he just didn't know what yet. Severus had gotten all of Perenelle's magical plants that were now being transferred to the castle's greenhouses, under the watchful eyes of Minnie.

The night passed awfully slowly, for both inhabitants of the castle. Severus gave up trying to sleep sometime after three in the morning, and headed to his lab. Harry hadn't even pretended to try and sleep; he was seated on his bed -not even having removed the covers; Minnie would have his head for not even trying to sleep- with the book Nicholas had given him last Christmas, the scrolls he had taken from his vault and his own notebook open around him. At morning break he moved all of the assorted items to his lab. He only kept one scroll with him, taking it to breakfast; it was old, the paper delicate.

And there was  _something_  between the many symbols written on it… That sigil which had been designed in the middle of the page… The quickly scribbled a note at the bottom of the page… He had suspected that scroll existed and Nicholas seemed to have made it easy to find, placing it inside one of the books he knew Harry would need immediately. It couldn't be by accident.

The green eyed boy sat across the kitchen table from a very concerned -and tired- potions master. It wasn't that Severus himself wasn't grieved; he was just as much in pain as he had been when his own mother had passed away and Nicholas had been the only decent father figure he had had in his whole life. But he understood. In a way at least. The Flamels had made a choice; given, it was not a choice he agreed with, but it was still their choice.

They had realized that, with keeping the Philosopher's Stone, they would endanger those they cared about the most and the whole magical community with them. So Nicholas had simply chosen not to and Perenelle had followed. Although he knew it was the responsible thing to do, that their sacrifice might have saved the lives of many, Severus couldn't help but wish they had been just a little selfish. Still, he told himself he understood.

Harry was a different cause altogether, the potions master thought. He had been almost completely silent since the moment they left the lawyer's office last afternoon. He had just grabbed a few books and some of the alchemist's notes and had withdrawn into his room, not to emerge until this morning. He didn't seem to want to speak and Severus had no intention to pressure him. Harry had to deal with this in his own way and Severus understood that too. Still he hoped the boy would come out and express the grief he had been keeping inside. He had been forced to hide it for a week and now he didn't allow it to surface.

Harry's grief, combined with his fear over losing his brother and his -completely misplaced if anyone asked the potions master- guilt over Quirrell's death, had driven the boy into a state of deep contemplation that no child his age -no matter how charismatic they may be- should be allowed to enter.

Severus watched as Harry ate with no true appetite, his green gaze fleeting towards an old scroll he had brought with him presently lying next to his plate on the table. It was filled with the obscure and secret alchemic symbols that made no sense whatsoever to him but which the boy seemed to understand perfectly. Suddenly, Harry dropped his fork and hut his eyes, the hand that was touching -almost caressing- the scroll trembling.

"Harry?" Severus asked, trying to sound more composed than his rabid heartbeat dictated. The boy opened his eyes as a response, making Severus almost regret he had ever interrupted whatever he was thinking. For a moment there Severus had thought that Harry was finally ready to shed the tears he had been holding all this time. Then he realized it was neither pain nor anguish -although, Merlin, both feelings were there- that made his eyes burn like a blazing emerald fire. It was determination.

"I'm going to my lab." The boy declared a -now steady- hand clasping the scroll from the table. He took a few steps and stopped, turning to look at Severus over his shoulder. "This might take some time." The potions master nodded once; at least now he was doing something, he thought.

"Take all the time you need." Harry returned the gesture and swiftly exited the room. He knew he should feel gratitude for Severus's understanding -his Dad was amazing that way too, hi thought- but that knowledge was prevented from becoming an actual feeling by a dam placed around his heart. Maybe not a dam, Harry pondered; it felt more like a gaping hole, a bottomless abyss that surrounded his heart. Any new feeling that tried to enter was lost in its depths that, at the same time, kept all the feelings that hurt trapped inside.

He entered his lab and stood frozen, his decisiveness faltering for a second. Last time he had been there it was for his last alchemy lesson before school started -he winced at the word 'last'; if only he had known back then just how final that would be- and Nicholas had been with him. He had promised that, come this summer he would have gotten the main idea of the stages required for the construction of the Stone and the alchemist had chuckled, stating that he expected nothing less. Well, Harry had also expected him to be there but he wasn't. He clenched his eyes shut and breather in deeply once, before bursting into a flurry of activity.

Books were opened and notes were consulted as the apprenticing alchemist became lost in his work. He had a purpose now; he wasn't going to stop before he completed what he was after. He had to do it. He just had to. The day passed and so did the night. Severus didn't ask him to stop, didn't ask him to leave the lab. Instead he brought him his meals there and even asked for a comfortable couch to be placed inside the room where Harry now spent most of his time for the nights he would have to sleep there. The potions master himself was occupying the lab next to Harry's also engulfed in his research. Overworking yourself wasn't the best way of coping with a situation like this but it seemed to be both his and Harry's poison of choice.

The days passed, the nights flew by and in a course of just over a month, Harry rarely left the lab for more than visiting the western tower, looking through his telescope and keeping some swift notes of whatever he was observing. And one Wednesday morning in the middle of July, at the crack of dawn, Harry was ready.

He walked into the middle of his room, were a shallow, well-like construction made of dark stone lay, filled up to one third with fourteen inches of water. Harry looked at the cold water for a moment pensively; this was it. He didn't dare hope for it might yet fail. Besides, his feelings hadn't quite returned to their normal state. He made sure one more time that all the ingredients he would need were at arms length. Assured that they were, Harry pointed his wand towards the ceiling;

" _Adventum!_ " As a response to his spell, a sigil painted there glowed gold as his magic was activated. The circle covered most of the ceiling, its centre right above the well. It was intricately designed, alchemic symbols intertwined with runes. Its central feature was an eight point star larger than the rest, although in the complex symmetry of the sigils heptagrams, hexagrams and pentagrams were combined with the rest of the symbols. Harry observed his work for a moment; it had taken him the better part of two weeks to design; two weeks when he had practically foregone sleep and rest but the end result was worth it he thought.

He turned his attention back to the water and smiled; he started adding the ingredients with what he hoped was the correct order, stirring with a quick spell when he saw it was needed; nothing but the ingredients and magic could touch the surface of the liquid until the process was completed. The concoction changed many colours before, finally, after two hours, a white mist rose from the well and started spreading across the room. Harry pocketed his wand and pointed his hands, palms open towards the water, ready to execute his first ritual ever.

" _Concitasti et resurge_

_Mutabis, solidatae_

_Tu reges metalla iam_

_Tu vitam aridiate produces"_

His palms shone with the same light as the sigil on the sealing, two gold-coloured sigils appearing there. The water started boiling and twirling, creating a maelstrom inside the well as a golden light appeared in the middle of it all. The liquid changed and became the mist that surrounded it but didn't evaporate; if anything, it seemed to be drawn to the bright light in the centre. The more the mist concentrated there, the more the light changed from gold to red, until it became a dark crimson. Harry's hands burned but he didn't even dare to blink lest he missed it.

And suddenly the spinning stopped and the light from his palms faded into nothing, the only light coming from the sigil in the ceiling as the torches on the walls had been extinguished sometime along the spell. He looked at his palms and was half-surprised to find them unmarred though he knew no scarring would occur; he had succeeded, he could feel it. He waved his hand once over the last traces of mist in the well and looked inside.

While Harry was occupied in his lab, Severus had woken up early and, as he was used to doing the last month, decided to walk to the greenhouses. He had been forced to expand on the pre-existing ones as the plants Perenelle had left him proved to be too much for his greenhouses. He walked silently amongst the rare specimens of flora touching a leaf here and then; the plants, as if they understood their mistress was gone, had withered and were kept to life only through magic spells Severus cast every day. He knew not what to do with them, as he knew not what to do with Harry.

The green eyed boy hadn't emerged from his lab save from visiting the west tower and the potions master was worried. If this went on for any longer he would have to take the situation into his own hands. Harry had to stop obsessing over whatever it was he was doing; maybe this had gone on for far too long already… Yes, Severus thought; he would have to tell Harry to leave his lab, even for a little while, this afternoon. Maybe a nice horse riding expedition to the lake would…

"Dad?" Harry's voice sounded from behind him, making him jump. The voice was somewhat hoarse from being practically unused for so long but it was unmistakably Harry's. Severus turned around and, yes, it was truly Harry, holding a folded, dark blue cloth in his hands.

"Harry?" Severus looked at the boy; he appeared pale tired, dark circles under his eyes. But the eyes themselves sparkled with more life than they had since the Quirrell incident. "Have you finished your project?" He asked calmly. Harry nodded.

"Yes." The boy stated simply and moved towards a table where a few empty pots lay. He placed the cloth down and Severus noticed for the first time that there was something wrapped inside it. "I rather took my sweet time, didn't I?"

"It's okay Harry." Severus reassured him, more than happy now that he was outside that dungeon. "And what was your project?" Harry smiled slightly.

"It's right here." He said and pointed at the cloth. "Why don't you unfold it?"

"Okay." The potions master stated curious and placed his hands on the cloth. He gasped; whatever it was, it was very powerful magically. He could feel the magic oozing through the fabric, prickling his palms. Carefully, he touched the cloth unveiling the object hidden within; whatever it was, it was quite small and… "What is… Harry!" Severus looked at the object in question in complete shock. This couldn't be.  _It couldn't_! His eyes turned to Harry who was smiling softly, the smile never reaching his eyes.

"It's weird how much havoc this thing can wreck." He stated softly looking at the now unfolded cloth. There, in the middle of the blue velvet, not larger than a walnut, stood a dark crimson crystal. It looked so innocent lying there but both wizards knew it was anything but. "You can touch it Sev; it won't bite, I promise." Severus did just that, tentatively reaching with his hand and lifting the crystal. It was cool to the touch, cooler than it would be were it a normal crystal. There was no mistaking it.

"A Philosopher's Stone." The potions master said, his voice thick from disbelief. "Your project was… You  _made_  this?" He asked putting the Stone down, almost afraid to hold it for too long. Instead of a response, Harry lifted his shirt; one of the symbols around his emblem, the one that stood for alchemy, was now a dark red, the same colour as the Stone.

"Yes, I did." Harry stated looking at the Stone himself, letting his shirt fall back into place. "It's so bloody  _small_ , isn't it?" Harry asked closing his eyes and sighing. Severus was at a loss of words. This should be impossible. And still, there was the Stone and there was Harry, with a mark that deemed him a master of alchemy and a sad smile that told of how little it mattered under the circumstances.

"Harry this… This is…" He took in a calming breath. "Do you understand what you did?"

"Quite." Harry stated, his smile broadening a little. "After all, it did take me a full month."

"A full month? A  _month_ , Harry?" Severus asked incredulously, combing back his hair nervously, his hands shaking. "It has taken others their whole lives and most never succeed. Only Nicholas…"

"Actually no; there were others before and after him." Harry interrupted. "They just misused the Stone and it caused them to meet rather violent ends in the hands of those who craved it for themselves. And Nicholas himself created his first Stone when he was fourteen." Severus was just as awed as before.

"You're not even twelve yet, Harry." He reminded him -and himself- patiently.

"Well, I did study under Nicholas for years. And I really wanted to prove…" He chuckled dryly. "You know, I don't even remember what I wanted to prove!" He started chuckling and then burst out laughing; it sounded a bit strange to his ears -strained too- but it truly wasn't forced. Severus looked at him like he feared for his sanity.

"Harry?"

"Oh, I just realized I made a Philosopher's Stone for no apparent reason!" And at that explanation he started laughing again, the sheer absurdity of the situation causing Severus to join him.

"You don't need me to tell you how amazing this is, Harry; amazing is an understatement in this instance." Severus's eyes fell back on the Stone. "It is rather small." He admitted causing both of them to chuckle again. "So, a master alchemist, right?"

"For whatever that's worth." Harry stated, looking at the Stone himself.

"And have you figured out what to do with the Stone yet?" Harry's brow furrowed in thought; that he hadn't considered. He had just wanted something to keep him going, something to prove that Nicholas was still with him in some way. He took his eyes from the red stone and looked around him, for the first time observing the state of the plants. These were Perenelle's plants he noticed with a start. They didn't seem to be faring that well. Suddenly everything was clear.

"Yes. Yes I have." Harry stated and pulled out his wand as Severus kept looking at the Stone.

"And what would that be?" He asked.

" _Reducto_!" Harry exclaimed, the bright white spell turning the Stone into fine dust. Severus just looked between the dust-that-used-to-be-a-Philosopher's-Stone and Harry in rapid succession.

"What?" He asked, deep down knowing Harry had done the right thing. He wouldn't have said no to some warning in advance though!

"I believe we have established that a Philosopher's Stone is more trouble than it's worth." Harry said with as smile.

"Couldn't you have warned me first?" Severus asked cocking an eyebrow playfully. "I'm at an advanced age you know; what if I get a heart-attack or something?" Harry burst out laughing, marvelling at how lighter his heart felt. It seemed that watching the stone turn into dust had brought him some sort of closure.

"Watch it!" He warned him between chuckles. "If it comes down to you dying of old age, I'll make you another Stone. Deal?"

"Deal." Severus stated, laughing himself. "And I guess the Stone is useless in this form?"

"It can't be repaired magically and it has lost most of its abilities as it is; it could still be used for creating a life drought though." Harry stated seriously.

"Then what are you going to do with the dust?" Severus asked concerned.

"Just watch." With a couple of quick spells and a few flicks of his wand, the red dust rose in the air and small portions found their way inside the pots around the greenhouse. Disregarding the confused potions master, Harry walked towards the water valve and turned it on, water spraying over the plants. It only took a few moments for the plants to start absorbing what was left of the Philosopher's Stone; the reaction was immediate.

Everything brown seemed to turn green or purple, even red, whatever their normal colour was supposed to be; the plants around grew and blossomed, looking healthier than ever, the envy of any herbologist in the wizarding world. Severus looked around him in wonder. Had Harry just…?

"There." Harry stated with a smile. "I think Nicholas would approve, don't you think?"

"Ehm, Harry?"

"Yes, Sev?"

"Am I seeing things, or did you really just use a Philosopher's Stone as garden fertilizer?" Harry just blinked blankly a couple of times after that declaration.

"Well it worked, didn't it?" They looked each other for a moment and burst out laughing again. There was still pain and there would be for a very long time; but now they could truly start to move on.

 


	26. Of Faces New And Not-So-New

Three weeks had passed since the creation and subsequent destruction of the Philosopher's Stone and things had started to slide back into a rhythm. Harry was resuming with his studies and Severus went on with his research. It wasn't until the end of July when the two wizards had been hit with the sudden realization that Harry's twelfth birthday marked a decade since they had first met.

"Wow." Harry had eloquently stated as Severus filled their glasses with butterbeer. "A decade?"

"I know." Severus agreed with a smile. "Sometimes I can't believe that little baby I remember has turned into you. You've grown, Harry." The potions master kept his sentences short on purpose, not trusting his voice not to break.

"It was bound to happen, I guess." Harry shrugged it off. "But a  _decade_?" For someone who is twelve, Severus thought, a decade means so much more than someone as old as Nic… than someone older. Thinking of the alchemist still stung. Not that he had expected it wouldn't but still, he was supposed to be able to rein his feelings; he prided himself in that. But the Flamels' loss was still raw and hurt him just as much as when his parents had died. Maybe even a little more.

"You're still young; when you get older, a decade will have far less significance."

"Said the old guy." Harry stated rolling his eyes. "Because really, Thirty-two is  _such_  an old age!" The sarcasm was clear in his voice and Severus chuckled at how much the boy sounded like him.

"Okay, you might be right." Severus admitted.

"You know I'm right." Harry deadpanned. "Hey, Sev?" The boy continued after a short pause. "Where do you think we'll be after another decade?"

"Who knows?" Severus wondered. "Hopefully in this porch, drinking something stronger since you'll be of age." He joked lightly.

"Maybe you'll be in a stable relationship by then!" Harry smirked while Severus huffed. "Married even!"

"Are you trying to play matchmaker, Harry?"

"No. That would mean I have already found your match and I haven't. Yet."

"Why you…" The potions master mock-chastised him and threw him a pillow.

"Violent much?" Harry asked playfully, causing a content smile to creep on Severus's face; the Harry he knew was slowly making his reappearance.

"Anyway," Severus stated, lifting his glass "here's to the next ten years; may they be just as crazy as the last ten. Or we would be bored."

"Let's cut down on near death experiences though." Harry offered before drinking.

"Let's." Severus agreed, joining in the wishful thinking before sipping on his drink. Speaking on keeping things  _not_  boring and amidst it all, the green eyed wizard had also begun, as he had put it himself,  _experimenting_  with the older broomsticks in his spare time; and by experimenting, he meant taking them apart and placing them together again. A week ago he had also started trying to create a broomstick of his own; nothing too complicated of course. He just wanted to see what it took to make a broom fly.

Harry had decided to try his hand in broomstick making a couple of days after his twelfth birthday to be exact, after his family had come and left again; Adrian had seemed rather annoyed with the program that had been set for him. Apparently, the fact that Harry's spell had been attributed to Adrian's hidden magic had prompted an extensive round of magical trials to see if his powers extraordinaire would stir again when the older Potter twin was in need. Obviously, nothing had happened up to that point but that didn't seem to make them stop.

The green eyed boy smirked remembering the expression on his brother's face the day he had to take off again for training; it would do Adrian a world of good, he figured. And while his brother was travelling to Merlin knew where, Harry was moving on with his private studies. While he still had been unable to enter his alchemy lab -he had been carefully avoiding the room after completing the ritual for the philosopher's stone- there were other subjects that could claim his attention and take his mind off the more painful aspects of his life.

And as such, Harry, at that warm morning of the eighth of August, found himself seated on the back porch of the castle reading the book Severus had given him last Christmas. He hadn't had much time to translate it at Hogwarts, but now he found himself encompassed in the pages of the book. There was a little, passing and vague piece of information there, maybe something he had mistranslated. He would have to ask Severus. Speaking of Severus, Harry thought, looking over his book towards the forest, were was he?

Harry had let it slip that any attempt he might make in creating a broomstick, after he did some tests for a week on how to make pieces of wood levitate at will, would be much more productive if it was tried on different types of wood. Severus, stating that he wanted to help, had gone off to the forest a couple of hours ago. Wherever had he disappeared to? Harry returned to his book, only half his mind still in it; he had had one bad experience too many recently to be at ease with such a delay.

"There you go!" Severus exclaimed from somewhere behind Harry's back, startling him enough to drop his book. The boy turned around rapidly; Severus had brought back the wood as promised it seemed. Harry started laughing at the sight.

"Severus, you do remember you're a wizard, right?" He asked trying to breathe normally.

"Yes." Severus stated cocking one eyebrow in confusion.

"And that you could have used your wand to cut some wood?" He stated eyeing the axe on the potions master's right hand. Severus smiled.

"I decided to go with the traditional approach." He offered chuckling. "Plus, I felt like breaking some sweat."

"Yes, you look like it too." Harry agreed mock seriously.

"Fine, be like that; I can always take the wood I brought you and…"

"Okay! I'll stop, promise!" Harry stated and pulled out his wand to levitate the pieces of wood from the floor. He had been practicing silent spells lately and he had quite the success with the simple ones; he had tried a  _Stupefy_  too but decided to read some more on the silent spells' theory before recasting that; Severus swore the grand tapestry in the main hall would never look the same. Harry, up to that moment, couldn't for the life of him understand how the tapestry had frozen; he wasn't even aiming at it! Putting all thoughts of his spell casting aside, he looked at the eight different branches floating in front of him, all in the perfect size and cleared from leaves or smaller branches that had once been attached on them.

"The three thicker ones are oak, the three light ones are willow and the other two are ash." Severus stated.

"They're perfect, Sev. Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me; I just want to be there the first time you make one of them into a working broomstick!" The potions master stated with a smirk; it was bound to happen after all; if Harry could make a Philosopher's Stone, a broomstick should be a walk in the park.

"If you don't mind being a lab-rat I would have you test them too." Harry stated happily.

"Oh I don't mind!" Severus looked like a five year-old with that wide smile and the twinkling in his eyes.

"Just don't sue afterwards and you can use whatever I make all you want." Harry stated with a smile. It had been a slow process from then on; he had chosen to start with a willow branch and the first he had to do was give it the right shape. If anyone had told him he would be using Arithmancy for any Quidditch related activity a few months ago, he would have them admitted at St Mango's in the blink of an eye. Still, here he was, carefully working over charts to ascertain the broom would have the right form. He had even tried his hand in a few designs of how he wanted the end result to look like, but he was still a far cry from happy about it.

The weeks passed -complete with a surprise trip for five days in Tunisia courtesy of Severus- and before Harry knew it, it was the last week of August. It was the night before his family's programmed trip at Diagon Alley and Harry found himself in his room at Potter Manor, going over one of his designs. It held some promise, he thought as he rolled up the parchment and set out for a bit of studying on advanced Transfiguration before dinner; he was studying on permanent transformation of inanimate objects, a subject usually dealt with at the seventh year in Hogwarts. Needless to say, he was captivated.

He ended up studying till after midnight and only just managed to brush his teeth before falling asleep. He was almost certain he heard a banging noise from the next room -his brother's- but he was fast asleep before getting to ponder on it. Next day had started quite interestingly as the whole house seemed to be in various states of sleep when Lily saw fit to wake them up at seven in the morning. Adrian was still wearing his pyjamas' bottoms with his robes looking a little preoccupied about something, James was murmuring of the unfairness of it all and the brutality of being awaken so early and Sirius looked right down mutinous, having carried his pillow in the kitchen with him; he was presently sleeping with his head on the kitchen table.

"He can sleep anywhere, can't he?" Remus asked, looking at his life-long friend, smiling.

"Lucky bastard…" James muttered, making his sons giggle and Lily slap him around his head.

"James, watch your language!" She admonished, making her husband roll his eyes. "I married a five year-old."

"Seems so." Harry chirped over his cereal. He was the only one seemingly unaffected from the early hour.

"You seem awfully cheerful this morning." Adrian said annoyed. "It's unnatural."

"No, I'm just brilliant that way." Harry quipped, causing the table to laugh and Sirius to mutter something incomprehensible in his sleep. Remus moved towards the dozing dog animagus and pulled the pillow underneath his head, causing him to wake up rather abruptly.

"I'm up! I'm up!" He exclaimed panicked before he realized just what had happened, the booming laughter and the pillow in Remus's hands, quite giving it away. "Moony!" Sirius whined. "I can't believe you just did that!"  
"And I can't believe you fell asleep on the kitchen table, but you did." The werewolf deadpanned while Sirius pouted. The atmosphere remained jovial as they headed to Diagon Alley and continued in the same spirit when they met the Weasleys. Adrian ran to Ron, immediately starting to whisper something at him as Harry shook his head; he had a feeling that he would hear about it soon. He turned to the rest of the group; his mother had approached Molly and they were talking in equally hushed tones while the only other female of the group followed them, looking mildly amused. This was to be Ginny's first year in Hogwarts, Harry realized as he approached the only Weasley daughter.

"So, how do you feel about going to Hogwarts for the first time?" The green eyed boy asked while they walked towards Gringotts.

"Excited I guess. Happy. Terrified." She said with a shy smile.

"That's about right." Harry agreed, remembering how his own feelings mirrored hers last year. "Just be yourself and you'll do great; the Hat knows what it's doing and besides, if you need anything, you have four brothers in the school you can turn to, not to mention Adrian and myself." Ginny rewarded him with a bright smile. The large group walked together around the Alley, the children peering at their school lists. Harry sighed; this Lockhart character was all over his letter. He thought of the picture of the blond wizard with the unnaturally white teeth smiling from the front page of Witch's Weekly and sighed once more. He had tried to read some of his books and, even if the theory behind his adventures seemed correct, there was something that just didn't feel right. Harry had written it off as the author's pompous air and had been happy to put the book down and never read another work of his again.

His mother and Mrs. Weasley -and apparently Hermione from what he had overheard from Adrian and a complaining Ron- had a different reaction altogether. Mrs. Weasley usually giggled when Gilderoy Lockhart was mention and his mother had taken into sighing dreamily. Harry thought it was funny to watch; his father didn't. James was rather ready to badmouth the blond wizard and Lily fully prepared to huff at him when he did.

After shopping for new ingredients and everything else that did not require a visit to the bookstore, they approached Flourish and Blotts. The line in front of the bookstore was impossible to say the least and mostly composed of witches of various ages. It didn't take that long for Harry to find out why. Gilderoy Lockhart was signing his autobiography  _Magical Me_  that morning and the crowds had flocked to get a glimpse. The boy sighed and looked towards his mother and Mrs. Weasley; the two redheads were swiftly rearranging their hair and the word  _'conspiracy'_  appeared in bold letters in the green eyed boy's mind.

"Oh come on, Lils!" James complained rolling his eyes. "Can't we come back tomorrow?"

"Absolutely not!" His wife stated and walked forward towards the line. Hermione and her parents were there too, Harry realized, the bushy haired girl waving at them from the line, cheeks blushing in anticipation. Harry heard a soft snicker and turned towards the sound -the only one that wasn't either a complain, a groan or an high-pitched giggle- and found Ginny looking incredulously at the scene unfolding in front of them. The moment she noticed Harry was looking at her, she blushed an impressive crimson but Harry smiled encouragingly; it was nice to see that not  _all_ the female population of the country had gone crazy.

"Come on children!" Molly exclaimed. "The line's long enough without your stalling!"

"Do we have to?" Fred complained.

"Oh come on kids! It will be so much fun!" Sirius offered in a successful interpretation of a black haired woman that was trying to convince her children a few paces ahead, making them laugh. The wait would have been bearable, Harry thought, hadn't Lockhart decided to grab Adrian and have him force-photographed for the  _Daily Prophet_. The poor boy looked dazed, squirming and doing his best to hide himself from the photographer and a smiling Lockhart. James was about to protest, when Lockhart offered Adrian his whole collection of books for free but was abruptly stopped when the wizard author announced he would be the next Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

Are we never to have a normal professor in this subject? Harry lamented as hopes of actually doing something interesting this year flew out the window; the only professor he had ever had on the subject was a Voldemort possessed nutcase and now this? He was about to voice his thoughts to Ginny when a different type of commotion caught their attention; the Malfoys had arrived and they had just met with the Weasleys, namely the Weasley patriarch. Harry gulped, his hand tightening around his wand innately as he approached the ruckus; for some not so odd reason, this didn't foretell well.

"The famous Adrian Potter." Draco sneered at Adrian who was staggering under the weight of his newly acquired books; he unceremoniously dropped them into Harry's arms, telling him to burn them or something while Draco continued. "Can't even walk into a bookstore without making the front page." Harry placed the collection of Lockhart's work in Ginny's cauldron, mouthing that he would buy new ones for himself and turned to Malfoy before his brother pounced.

"I would watch that tone, Malfoy." The green eyed boy stated calmly. "Your comment tasted strongly of jealousy." Draco's eyes turned into slits as he regarded the younger Potter twin while Adrian snickered.

"What's going on here? Dad said he's seen Malf…" Ron began as he approached the Potter twins. "Oh, it's you." Ron stated looking at Malfoy like he was something less than dirt. "Bet you're surprised to see Adrian here, eh?" Ron asked smirking, holding the stack of his collection of their new DADA professor tight. Hermione next to him offered a disgruntled tat of her tongue at the redhead's reaction; Harry wondered momentarily how he ever managed to hear it amidst the general chaos around. The cacophony around was a bit louder that usual, but so far he had only attributed it to the book signing; now however…

"Not as surprised as I am to see you in a shop, Weasley." Draco spat back, effectively snapping Harry out of his reverie. "I suppose your parents will go hungry for a month to pay for all those." Ron turned beet red and dropped his books in Ginny's cauldron too. He moved to attack Malfoy, but Adrian and Hermione held him back. A fruitless effort since Lucius Malfoy and Mr. Weasley -after the older Malfoy made a harsh comment regarding the state of Ginny's books- decided it would be a great idea to attack each other inside the bustling shop.

Not even the complaining owner couldn't separate them while the Weasley twins, James and Sirius were cheering Arthur the whole time. Thankfully for everybody included, Hagrid made a surprising entrance -he had apparently been shopping for Flesh-Eating Snail Repellent in Knockturn Alley, something that caused an identical mischievous gleam on the Weasley twins' faces- and got everybody out relatively unscathed.

"I can't believe you did that!" Lily stated, looking at her husband. "You stood there and cheered? You're an Auror, James!" She was fuming as Prongs was mumbling his apology; still, nothing could compare with the glare Mrs. Weasley directed to her own husband. The fact that she had barely managed to dodge a rather hefty tome on the Sisterhood that had almost hit her in the eye, didn't help either.

"A  _fine_  example you set for your children…  _brawling_  in public…  _what_  Gilderoy Lockhart must've thought…" Arthur just looked properly chastised, appearing right down miserable, nursing a cut lip.

"He was pleased." Fred informed everyone. "Didn't you hear him as we were leaving? He asked that bloke from the Daily Prophet if he'd be able to work the fight into his report -said it was all publicity…" Harry rolled his eyes; a year of Lockhart's teaching and he was afraid all they would learn was how to pose effectively so that the camera only captures your good side.

"Lockhart sounds lovely." Ginny muttered next to him. Harry turned to her and smirked.

"Just imagine all the knowledge he could impart on us!" The green eyed boy whispered in an obviously fake state of awe. "I can see it already; a full month devoted on his favourite fashion trends. Oh, the joy!" Ginny giggled at his sarcasm.

"Well, there has to be  _some_  knowledge in that ponce." The redhead girl stated. "He did write all these books after all…" She reminded him and Harry nodded.

"And the theory is correct but the  _way_  he writes…"  
"I guess you also thought that mentioning his favourite colour is lilac was irrelevant to how he dealt with that Yeti?" She asked and Harry's eyes widened in surprise.

"Have you already read his books?" The raven haired wizard asked. Ginny blushed a deep hue of red.

"No, just that one, _A Year with the Yeti_." Ginny explained. "Mom's a fun and the book had been laying around the house for some time so I figured, why not?" Harry nodded smiling.

"And yes, to answer your question, I do believe it's irrelevant, unless the poor Yeti in question jumped of a cliff once it saw him approaching, its eyes burning out at the sight of said completely lilac-clad ponce." Ginny burst into laughter, drawing the eyes of their families, if only for a second, before Sirius dragged them all to Florian Fortesque's for an ice cream. His childish behaviour however did lift their spirits a bit and Harry suspected part of it was intentional this time around. Harry spoke with Ginny for the majority of their stay, the girl telling him a story of how she was once attacked in Knockturn Alley.

"And what were you doing in Knockturn Alley?" He asked interested.

"I was about five and had gotten lost." Ginny explained. "I was so scared my mind started playing tricks on me, I swear." Harry nodded, understanding the feeling; Merlin knew how many nightmares his mind had subjected him to lately.

"And what happened?"

"Let's put it this way; if you think that my Dad was scary while brawling with Malfoy, you would have thought him terrifying back then." Harry laughed at that, trying to imagine the usually calm Mr. Weasley fighting off a group of wizards. Well, he could certainly do it, he thought, especially if it was to save his only daughter.

The return to Potter Manor was uneventful; Ron had tagged along for the night and at the moment he was off at the grounds, swimming at the pond. Harry had returned to his room and was catching up on what they would be required to learn this year, making notes of subjects he might need revise before leaving for school. The list was unsurprisingly short; Harry pulled out his History of Magic textbook, and did the best he could with all the goblin rebellions he would have to remember. Considering there were fifteen of them, his head was throbbing by the time he went down for dinner. Adrian and Ron were lost in an argument over Quidditch once more. Shaking his head fondly, Harry sat down on the table.

The rest of the summer passed like a breeze; Harry had been so focused on his studies -partially because he was trying to not think about last May and June too much- he barely realized August was over and the next term was about to begin. He was seated at the back porch of Severus's castle once again -it was becoming something of a ritual for the last day of summer- carving the details on his first handmade broomstick ever; it was of crude design, he could tell, and the cushioning spells left a lot to be desired but it was unmistakably a broomstick and, most importantly, it flew.

"It really does fly…" Severus trailed off, his hand over the hovering broomstick. Harry smirked.

"For somebody who was certain of my success only weeks ago, you seem rather surprised, Sev." Harry stated.

"Well, I never expected you'd make it so fast!" The potions master deadpanned, a sly expression on his face. "And will it stay up once it begins to move or should I expect an explosion?" Harry's eyes turned into slits as he grabbed the broomstick and mounted it in one swift movement. "I was joking!" Severus exclaimed as Harry took off. Admittedly, the boy thought, it was nowhere near as good as his Nimbus Two Thousand. But his calculations had been absolutely correct and, though it still lacked on comfort and speed, his first design was aerodynamically perfect, flying steady through the sky. Harry smiled and did a few turns around the porch before deciding no to push his luck.

"An explosion?" He asked happily. "Nothing so dramatic I fear."

"Goblins' gold, it really flies!" Severus stated excited, grabbing the broomstick from Harry's hand and following his example as the boy laughed at his antics. "And it's steady too!" The potions master exclaimed from right above Harry.

"That was the sole point at this level." Harry answered, sitting on the couch and pulling out the notebook he kept on his broomstick designs, jotting down a few notes on additions that had to be made; the series of books Severus had purchased had been read already, and now he had proceeded to add some of the spells he had found during his research. And if that doesn't count as an imagination-sharpening activity, the green eyed wizard thought, then I don't know what does.

"That's a memory worth to buy a Pensive for! You just made an operational broomstick!" Severus stated dismounting the broom.

"Gee, you look more excited than when I made the Stone." Harry observed laughing.

"I was  _shocked_  then, Harry; at least you warned me in advance this time." The boy nodded in agreement.

"Fair enough." Harry stated. "It's a real pity that Pensives are so rare; I could maybe make one, but it's another area of magic altogether; blood magic, transfiguration, knowledge of runes and a bit of alchemy. Sigil carving too!" Harry shook his head. "It would take years of research to even make an attempt at it." Severus nodded.

"It requires some knowledge of potions too." Severus stated his look contemplative.

"You're not thinking of making one, do you?" Harry asked disbelieving; no doubt Severus was as brilliant as they made them but Pensive-making was a specific, very secretive art.

"Not quite." The potions master mumbled.

"But you thought of something." The boy pressed on.

"Well yes." The potions master smirked. "Just an idea still; but if I get something more specific, you'll be the first to know. I might have found us a shared project for next summer…" And at that prospect, Harry's smile could rival a dozen  _Lumos_  spells at once.


	27. Ever Heard Of The Word "Competency"?

Harry was getting worried. The Hogwarts Express had just departed from Platform 9¾ and there was no sign of his brother on the train. Adrian had opted on spending the last night of the summer at the Burrow and, even if the green eyed wizard had caught the trademark red hair of the Weasley family in the platform, seconds before the train departed, his brother's rave hair was not amongst them. Sighing in disappointment, Harry stood up from his seat, let Hedwig out of her cage so she could fly to the school and left his compartment in search of his brother. And he had hoped it would be a peaceful train ride too!

The first Weasleys he met with were the twins that had informed him Adrian and Ron had indeed been right behind them when they entered the platform. Then he waved at Ginny who smiled back dazedly; she seemed to be deep in thought Harry realized, as she scribbled to what must have been her diary. He didn't envy her; the first few weeks of the first year could be a shock. He decided to let her think in peace and continued his search. It wasn't Ron or his brother that he found next however. It was a very worried Hermione.

"Harry, have you seen Ron and Adrian?" She asked, cutting straight to the chase. Nice to see you too, Harry thought drily.

"Hello, Hermione. No, I've been searching for them myself." The Gryffindor girl tugged the corner of her school robes -had she put them on already?- anxiously.

"If you find them please come tell me." And she turned around and left, continuing her search. Harry shook his head at Hermione's antics. Still, he couldn't shake his own worry; where could Adrian be? An hour and a half later, he was back at his compartment, laying on the seats, deep in thought. There was no denying it; neither his brother nor Ron seemed to have boarded the train. A thousand different scenarios started to weave themselves inside his head and he immediately regretted sending Hedwig to Hogwarts. He could have informed his parents if she was still there.

Think rationally Harry, he ordered himself, twirling the concealment ring Severus had given him last Christmas on his thumb. Our parents were at the platform and so were the Weasleys; if Adrian had a problem, if he didn't manage to board the train for any reason, he would have already been found and helped. That did nothing to calm his frantic heartbeat or placate his over imaginative mind. He had a bad feeling about this; when did his brother go missing  _without_  getting into trouble?  _Never_ , a voice sing-songed in the corners of his mind as he sighed again.

Suddenly, the compartment door opened to reveal a slightly ruffled Neville Longbottom. His hair was askew, his school uniform was haphazardly buttoned up and he was sweaty and panting as if he had just ran all the way to the compartment's door from London. His eyes fell on Harry and he ducked his head in what the green eyed boy interpreted as shame.

"Come in, Neville!" Harry said instead of a greeting. "Are you alright?" The boy nodded once and entered the compartment, sliding the door closed behind him. Silently he sat across Harry and seemed to contemplate his latest statement -well, nod- before retracting it and shaking his head negatively instead. "What happened?" Harry asked concerned.

"Malfoy." Was all the brown eyed boy said, before lowering his head in shame.

"Of course." Harry muttered, putting down the book he wasn't reading anyway and turned his full attention to Neville. "What did he do this time?"

"He… ugh…" Neville gulped once and lifted his head to look Harry in the eyes. "He walked into my compartment and started making fun of me having a frog for starters." The boy said, pointing at a bulge on his robe's pocket where his pet frog, Trevor, was currently residing. "Then he started asking if I had brought another Remembrall with me and then Pancy, she was there too, started wondering out loud how a coward like me ended up in Gryffindor." He blushed and bit his bottom lip then, presumably to prevent himself from crying, or from embarrassment, from saying too much. Harry knew that had always been one of Neville's problems; he didn't see himself brave enough for Gryffindor. Personally, Harry thought he was being obstinate in his disbelief, obstinacy being a characteristic flaw of Gryffindor in itself.

"He's just a bully. All his friends are." The green eyed wizard stated seriously. "You shouldn't pay much attention to him, Nev."

"But he's right." Neville persisted, his gaze on the floor once more. "Everybody knows I'm almost a squib." Harry snorted, gaining the other boy's attention.

"You're not a squib, Neville." Harry offered. "First of all, there's nothing wrong with being a squib. But you have more than proven that you can cast spells." The green eyed wizard reminded him. Neville smiled softly and pulled out his wand, looking at it contemplating. It seemed worn, Harry realised, as if it had been used for many years instead of one. And as if it had seen rougher days, he imagined, as his own wand was still in pristine condition; "your greatest ally", Merlin had called it and Harry had taken his word for him.

"I just want to do my parents justice." Neville admitted. Harry looked between the wand and Neville rapidly before he made the connection.

"Nev, is that… Is that one of your parents' wands?" It would make sense if it was, the boy figured; it would definitely explain the wand's state -it seemed as it had seen battles- and Neville's inconsistent perform in spellcasting.

"It is, was, my father's." The boy admitted, his head hang low. "Grandmother says I should work harder to make him proud. She said that, one day, I will be worthy of his wand, I don't know if I ever will." Harry, listened to his monologue with wide eyes.

"Believe me when I say I mean no disrespect, but Nev, you can't cast spells with someone else's wand. Well, you can," Harry amended, seeing Neville's eyes widen in confusion "but the result won't be the same. This wand," he said, pointing at said wand in Neville's hands "doesn't recognise you as its master. You weren't chosen for it and you didn't win it in a duel. It's fighting your magic every time you cast a spell." Harry explained.

"You think so?" The boy asked, looking at the wand critically. His eyes shone with a timid hope, just a little sparkle, but it seemed to transform his whole face. "But… My grandmother says…"  
"She wants something to remember your father by. But you shouldn't be it." Harry offered kindly. "I think a wand of your own would do miracles for your spellcasting."

"Really?" Neville asked, his smile openly hopeful now.

"Of course!" Harry assured him. The other boy smiled a little brighter before losing all his newfound joy in the blink of an eye.

"But what do I tell my grandma?" He asked terrified. "I asked her, last year, if I could get a wand of my own and she looked at me as if I had insulted her."

"But she surely must see…" Harry begun, but Neville's forlorn expression informed him otherwise. "You know what?" He asked smirking. "Give me some time to think about it." He had heard stories of Neville's grandmother. Augusta Longbottom was known for her strict character and seemed to have been the one from where Neville had inherited his stubbornness. "I'll figure something out." Harry promised, making Neville's smile widen again. They went on talking about anything and everything for the next few hours, buying something to eat from the cart and having fun with Bertie Bott's Every Flavoured Beans.

Harry couldn't believe how he hadn't spent more time with Neville last year; he was genuinely interesting and he seemed well versed in Herbology -his personal favourite subject- making for a great conversation. He decided to amend for last year's neglect starting immediately; it felt nice to have someone his own age to talk to. Only when Neville left to retrieve his trunk promising to meet with Harry at the carriages did Harry realise what had happened; he had forgotten of Adrian! How could he forget of Adrian? Sure, he was with Ron and their parents were at the station with them probably but still.  _How had he forgotten of his brother?_  He was his responsibility after all!

The night began to fall and Harry changed into his robes with trembling hands, all the time blaming himself; something must have gone wrong. It must have! He descended the train, following the rest of the student body towards where he thought would be the famous horseless carriages of Hogwarts -with the exception of the first years who headed to the boats- his mind barely reminding him that they were in fact dragged by Thestrals; the hair of one of their kind was a part of his wand core and they were only invisible to those who hadn't witnessed death. He should have expected the sight that greeted him but, with worrying about his brother, it hadn't even crossed his mind.

All thoughts of Adrian were violently expelled from his mind once more as he locked eyes with a pair of dead, white ones. The Thestrals were of skeletal appearance, with rich black manes and tails, milky white eyes and two horns sticking on each side of their heads. And he could see them. His mind flew back to images of blazing fire and a man screaming as a voice snapped him out of his reverie.

"Unnerving, isn't it?" George Weasley asked. "Carriages that move on their own, I mean." He elaborated.

"Don't worry too much!" Fred added, pushing a reluctant Harry inside. "You'll get used to it." Harry nodded numbly, trying to get the image of a dying Quirrell from his mind with mild success. He waved at Neville to join them in the carriage and had only half his mind focused at the conversation as the Thestrals started pulling the carriages towards the castle. It was only after they got seated at the Gryffindor table and Percy wondered out loud where his brother was that he managed to snap out of his dark mood.

"I don't see Adrian either." Seamus, the sandy blond haired boy in Harry's year stated.

"I couldn't find them on the train." Harry offered, causing whispers to break around the table. The Shorting Ceremony began -with a radiant Ginny joining them in Gryffindor- causing the talk to subside for a while until Filch made an appearance, followed by his cat Mrs. Norris. He whispered something to Severus who was obviously shocked enough to let it show for a moment before rising from his chair and walking swiftly towards the grounds, Filch trying to catch up. Oh, something had definitely gone wrong, Harry thought.

He ate as fast as he could and then asked Percy for the password, proclaiming he wanted to leave sooner to write a letter to his parents asking if Adrian was alright. Percy agreed, barely able to hide his worry for his own brother, and Harry sped off towards the general direction of the Gryffindor Common Room before dessert was served, making an abrupt turn towards the Dungeons when he got out of view. Minerva McGonagall had been informed of whatever the incident was from Filch who, unable to catch up with Severus, had turned back to the Great Hall. The Transfiguration professor's pale complexion and tight lips was all the confirmation Harry needed.

He sped down to Severus's office, knocking on the door. Nobody was in so the boy started pacing up and down the corridor nervously. Mercifully, Severus appeared around the corner, his cloak bellowing behind him, his face an angry mask. As he approached, he noticed Harry and opened his door, ushering the boy in.

"What did my brother do?" Harry asked resigned.

"He and Ronald Weasley crushed a flying car on the Whomping Willow." Harry started coughing, choking on plain air as he tried to comprehend what he had heard. Adrian… flying car… crashed…  _Whomping_   _Willow_? He must have gotten something wrong.

"Were in Merlin's name did they find a  _flying_  car?" The boy's eyes unintentionally skimmed over the empty portrait of the most famous wizard of all times, hoping he might appear to answer him.

"I have a feeling that it's - _was_ \- Arthur's but I can't know for sure. I'm certain that he didn't  _fly_  it to the station!" Severus stated hiding his face in his palms as he sat behind his desk.

"And they really crashed on the Whomping Willow?" Harry croaked, certain he wouldn't like the answer.

"From all the places in the Hogwarts' park they could have landed!" The potions master exclaimed. "They were unharmed, miraculously may I add. Just a bit shaken. Minerva must be chewing their heads off as we speak." Harry nodded.

"But why would they use a flying car?"

"Apparently they missed the train."

"So instead of waiting for their parents they thought, hey, why don't we  _fly_  to Hogwarts? Just imagine how much fun that would be!" The green eyed wizard exclaimed confused.

"Apparently." Severus repeated. They stood in silence for a while, lost in their respective thoughts.

"Any idea why they missed the train?" Harry asked. "Fred and George told me they were right behind them when they entered the platform." The potions master shook his head negatively.

"Minerva appeared before I had snapped out of my shock of their survival enough to ask them."

"I'll try to find out tonight." Harry offered.

"Have you eaten anything?" Severus asked, realizing that, in order to arrive in his office before himself, Harry had most likely skipped dinner.

"I don't think my stomach can handle anything right now…" Harry trailed off; he had heard everything about the Whomping Willow from Prongs, Padfoot and Mooney. The mere thought of his brother approaching it let alone crashing on it with a flying car made him shiver.

"Here." Severus offered, waving his wand and producing some of that amazing hot chocolate from the kitchens. Harry took it gratefully. Maybe some warm chocolate would do him good. He took a few gulps and twirled the cup in his hands.

"I saw the Thestrals tonight." He muttered, the ghost-like horses reappearing in his mind now that he was somewhat reassured his brother was safe.

"I thought you might." Severus nodded softly. "Just remember, the Thestrals, despite their appearance, aren't evil creatures and besides, you have the hair of one…"

"Inside my wand, I know." Harry stated. "They just reminded me of… well, of the reason  _why_  I can see them." Severus looked at the boy seriously.

"Harry, we talked about this; you can't let it run your life." Harry nodded.

"I know and I'm not. I'm not!" He insisted catching Severus's inquiring glance. "It's just proving hard to forget is all." The black clad professor sighed.

"I will tell you the truth Harry; you will never forget it completely. There will be times when you will remember but, as time goes by, it will be easier to deal with every time." Harry nodded once.

"Can I borrow some parchment and a quill?" He asked, confusing the potions master quite a bit.

"What for?"

"I'm supposed to have left the fest early so I could send a letter to my parents; I better write it, just to be safe." Severus nodded and passed items Harry had requested to him with a smile. Harry wrote a few lines in haste and bid Severus goodnight, knowing he should better return.

"And remember what I told you, Harry." The boy nodded and ran to the Gryffindor Tower, making it there only seconds before the rest of the Gryffindors; he had to speed to the stairs towards the boys' dormitory so that he could hastily strap the letter on Hedwig's leg and send her off, climbing down the stairs to meet with his housemates. A few moments later, when his brother returned and he was certain he was still in one piece, Harry felt the tiredness of the day catching up with him. He retreated to his bed with a few short goodnights and after making his brother promise him he would tell him exactly what had happened in the morning, Adrian and Ron soon following his example.

The hazel eyed Potter twin did indeed honour his promise and told Harry of how they had found the passage to the platform blocked and how they had decided to take the car which turned out to truly be a creation of Mr. Weasley. When Harry asked them why they didn't wait for their parents, the two boys exchanged a lost look. Harry just shook his head with wonder. It was only when he asked his brother if he had any idea why the passage was blocked for him and Ron since everybody else had made it through that he realized his brother was holding something back from him. The supposedly inconspicuous look he exchanged with Ron spoke volumes and Harry was suddenly hit with the realization he was once again being excluded from something quite important in his brother's life.

The lessons started that day, as always. Well, there was the matter of two Howlers addressed to Ron and Adrian that morning and Harry found himself once again dumbfounded on just how loud his mother could scream; even if the voice was amplified magically, it was still an accomplishment, Harry thought.

The walk to Herbology had been quite interesting too. A first year student, a boy called Colin Creevy managed to snap a photo of Adrian, asking him if he could sign it too. Adrian on his side stood confused and was eventually pushed towards the Greenhouses where they -unfortunately- run into Lockhart; dressed completely in turquoise that day, he was walking briskly next to a very disgruntled and bandaged professor Sprout -Harry could see the infamous Whomping Willow with many of its branches in casts in the distance- heading towards the gathered second year students. The majority of the student body was ushered in Greenhouse three while Adrian was withheld by the blond professor. Noticing his almost fearful expression, Harry decided to take pity on him and not just leave him alone. He approached professor Sprout with that purpose.

"Professor?" He asked timidly.

"Yes, Mr. Potter." She was obviously still annoyed on Lockhart enough to make Harry's appeal easier to get through.

"I was wondering… Could I wait here for Adrian?" The Herbology teacher clearly didn't expect such a request. "You see professor, we first ran into Lockhart in Flourish and Blotts a few weeks ago and there had been a, well, an incident including a reporter from the Daily Prophet and…" Harry knew professor Sprout had heard about the incident seeing how the picture taken that day had made first page on the papers. "What I'm trying to say is that Adrian has been a little uncomfortable around Professor Lockhart since and, with all due respect, the Professor  _does_  get carried away sometimes…"

"Alright, Mr. Potter." The plump professor stated, her cheery personality that had been dampened a little from Lockhart's attempts to criticise her work returning. "You can stay. And three points to Gryffindor for standing up for your fellow students." She turned to the rest of the class as Harry exited the Greenhouse smiling softly. That had gone better than expected. Then again, Professor Sprout  _was_  the Head of Hufflepuff House; loyalty would have to go far with her. He heard voices coming from around the corner.

"Adrian, Adrian, Adrian…" Lockhart exclaimed theatrically. "When I heard, well, of course it was all my fault! Could have kicked myself!" What? Harry froze on his tracks, his curiosity getting the better of him. Had he missed something? Adrian must have been equally confused because he hadn't spoken yet himself. "Don't know when I've been more shocked. Flying a car to Hogwarts! Well I, of course, knew at once why you'd done it. Stood out a mile. Adrian, Adrian,  _Adrian_."

"What?" Harry mouthed inaudibly.

"Gave you a taste of publicity, didn't I? Gave you the  _bug_. You got onto the front page of the paper with me and you couldn't wait to do it again." Harry would have laughed if it wouldn't blow his cover; this was far too great as blackmail material to pass by.

"Oh, no, Professor, see…" Adrian voiced, sounding just as surprised as Harry was.

"Adrian, Adrian, Adrian." Lockhart continued unfazed. Harry, who had peeked just a little around the corner, could see the blond Professor had placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. " _I understand_. Natural to want a bit more once you've got the first taste –and I blame myself for giving you that, because it was bound to go to your head…" Harry snorted silently. As if Adrian gave a Knut for fame… "But see here, young man, you can't start  _flying cars_  to try and get yourself noticed. Just calm down, alright? Plenty of time for that when you get older. Yes, yes, I know what you're thinking. 'It's alright for him, he's an internationally famous wizard already!' But when I was twelve, I was just as much of a nobody as you are now. In fact, I would say I was more of a nobody! I mean, a few people have heard of you, haven't they? All that business with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" Harry had to bit on the inside of his cheek hard to not break out laughing. "I know, I know -it's not as good as winning _Witch Weekly's_  the Most-Charming-Smile Award five times in a row, as I have- but it's a start, Adrian, it's a  _start_."

"Now, wait a minute Professor…" Adrian was getting rather red in the face and was about to showcase the famous temperament they both had inherited from their mother. And since, in Adrian's case, said temperament was paired with James's attitude, Harry showed fit to intervene before his brother found himself with a detention on his first day."

"Hello, Professor!" Harry exclaimed brightly as he walked towards the pair, seemingly not noticing his brother's angry face. Gilderoy hadn't anyway.

"Young Harry Potter, if I'm not mistaken!" Lockhart exclaimed. "I think I have heard you're first in your year, correct? And Adrian's brother too?" No, I'm his Great Aunt, Harry thought sarcastically but let it pass.

"Yes, I am." He turned to his brother. "Professor Sprout sent me to get you Adrian; we're starting our lesson." He smiled at his brother and turned to face Lockhart again, channelling his inner Hermione the best he could. "And I've been  _dying_  to ask you Professor, when you tracked down those vampires in your book,  _Voyages with Vampires_ , did you use a traditional tracking spell? Because from what I understood it  _had_  to be a variation to work so exceptionally!" Lockhart's brilliant smile faltered a little at Harry's question.

"Ah, yes, as much as I would love to pass down my knowledge, I fear I have delayed your brother from his class for too long. Time to go!" And with a hearty wink, he turned around and left. Harry winked at his brother in turn.

"I figured you might need rescuing." He stated, making Adrian laugh.

"Best brother  _ever_!" The hazel eyed twin exclaimed, placing his hand over Harry's shoulders. "That bloody git!" He continued, glaring daggers towards the direction Lockhart had disappeared to. "If he keeps going that way, I swear he'll regret it!"

"You know what, Adrian?" Harry pondered out loud, an interesting idea popping into his head.

"What?" Adrian stopped as he was about to enter the greenhouse.

"Wouldn't Lockhart look great with green hair?" Harry asked and entered the greenhouse, leaving a stunned brother to trail inside a few seconds later. Adrian passed him a piece of paper with a single word written on it right after Harry answered a question Professor Sprout had asked about Mandrakes.  _Brilliant_ , the parchment wrote. Harry smirked at his brother who was silently explaining what had happened to Ron. Now there was a plan worth considering…

They were introduced to a boy named Justin Finch-Fletchley, a second year Hufflepuff who was seated on the table next to the one Harry was sharing with his brother, Ron and Hermione. He shook all of their hands, complimenting them on their, well, their existence in general, Harry figured.

The rest of the day passed completely calmly as expected. And what truly went as expected, as far as Harry was concerned, was the DADA lesson. Lockhart had started the lesson with the single word ' _Me_ ', pointing at his image on the cover of one of his books and making some stupid joke about his smile. The green eyed boy didn't need anything more to confirm that the whole year was going to be a complete disappointment. And, though no confirmation was needed, the test Lockhart handed out served to do just that; fifty-four questions on himself later -with only Hermione getting all of them correct- it was a mostly amused class at which the Defence Professor introduced the creatures they would learn about that day.

"Yes." Lockhart announced, lifting the sheet that covered a large cage on his desk with a flourish, "Freshly caught Cornish Pixies." People chuckled around Harry and he smiled a bit himself. Now Cornish Pixies were a nuisance but as long as they were kept locked… Harry blanched as Lockhart moved towards the cage.

"Well they're not -they're not very-  _dangerous_ , are they?" Seamus, who was seated right in front of the cage, asked smiling.

"Don't be so sure!" The blond Professor waggled a finger annoyingly at Seamus. "Devilish, tricky little blighters they can be!" Harry watched Lockhart carefully; he was far too close to the electric cloured, shrill-voiced faeries, who were at the moment content to rattle the bars of their cage, making funny faces at the students. "Right then." Lockhart stated, his hand on the latch of the cage's door. Harry gasped…  _he wouldn't_. "Let's see what you make of them!" And he opened the cage.

"He did." Harry whispered and pulled out his wand, rising from his chair where he sat next to his brother who followed his example. Behind them, Ron and Hermione did the same and got ready to face the pandemonium that spread around them. Some pixies flew right out the window, shattered glass falling on the floor. Others set to tear the classroom to shreds while two grabbed Neville from his ears and left him swinging on the chandelier. Students duck under their desks, while Lockhart encouraged them to face the pixies. His own attempt -a rather silly wand movement and an incantation that sounded like  _Peskipixi Pesternomi_ , a spell Harry had never heard of before- ended up in a complete failure, with his wand following books and parchments out the window; Neville almost landed on his head as the chandelier gave way under his weight. Enough was enough.

" _Desimotus!_ " It was a spell he had picked up from Severus's library during the last Spring break while researching for incantations he could use on his broom designing. A small orb, transparent and seemingly made of the air in the room, left his wand and hit one of the pixies. Upon contact, it expanded in a single circular wave around the classroom, stopping all pixies mid-air, frozen in place. Harry pointed towards the cage, sending the pixies in, approaching it himself and latching the door once they were all inside. He turned to look at Lockhart with narrowed eyes; the professor in question stared back stunned, his eyes wide under the table he was hiding. He opened his mouth either to speak or simply because he couldn't help it but was saved by the bell.

"Very good, Mr. Potter; fifteen points to Gryffindor!" And he took off towards the hallway, as fast as he could without running, leaving his stupefied students behind him. Harry sighed and pocketed his wand, moving towards Neville to help him stand up.

"Thanks, Harry." The boy muttered, straightening his robes.

"Don't mention it. You okay, Nev?"

"Yeah." Neville stated and then added, mostly talking to himself. "Why does it always have to be me?"

"That. Was.  _Wicked!_ " Ron exclaimed, patting Harry's shoulder. Harry smirked.

"Seriously Harry, that was great!" Adrian added, looking at the still stunned pixies in the cage. A few more students congratulated him while they tried to salvage their books in time for the next lesson.

"Can you  _believe_  him?" Ron complained as he gathered his Transfiguration book from across the room.

"Whom?" Adrian asked.

"Lockhart."

"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience." Hermione defended him, using her wand to clean some ink of her Charms homework.

"Hands-on experience?" Harry snorted. "Hermione, he had no idea what he was doing…"

"But he seemed so knowledgeable when he hid under the desk!" Adrian offered, causing Ron and Harry to laugh.

"Rubbish!" Hermione protested. "You've read his books! Look at all those amazing things he's done…"

"He says he's done…" Ron muttered and Harry nodded wholeheartedly.

"Goblins' gold!" The green eyed wizard exclaimed as he picked up his, now falling apart, Charms textbook to cast a quick  _Reparo_  spell on it. "Last year it was Quirrell, now this!" He looked around him, taking in the mess that was once their Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom; the windows where shuttered, the iron chandelier was on the floor, desks lay broken around and bits of paper that used to be books and essays were slowly being gathered by the students. The pixies at least were still unconscious. He turned to Neville that was still trying to locate his bag. "Has Dumbledore ever heard of the word  _competency_?"


	28. Of Elves And Voices

Harry lay on his bed reading a bit on a book he had been meaning to start at the beginning of term; it was a book on basic Gobbledegook, the language of goblins. It was a book he had asked Severus to provide him with, right after he had made that first broomstick fly. For it was a given fact that, if you wanted to even have a chance at marketing a product in the wizards' community and making profit out of it -and Harry couldn't help but think about doing just that- you would have to take it through the goblins first. It was also a given that goblins generally disliked wizards; learning their language and their mannerisms was a great step towards any semblance of a friendly business relationship. Severus, who had actually learned the basics of the language while training to be a potions master, had decided to resume his studies himself.

The green eyed boy read the pronunciation of a particularly difficult verb slowly. The problem with Gobbledegook, Harry surmised, was the fact that, while vowels did exist, they were pronounced in clipped sounds, making the rest of the word sometimes sound like a growl.

" _Kahrâgur_." Harry repeated; it was apparently goblin speech for the word  _provide_. He proceeded like that, writing down whatever he wanted to ask Severus later. The potions master had insisted that Harry had an aptitude for foreign languages, taking in French swiftly for his young age since he had started teaching him when he was eight. Harry simply insisted Severus was a great teacher; and the weekends in France had admittedly helped. He closed the book after a good half an hour of more studying and tried to sleep; the events of the day before flew back to his mind the moment he shut his eyes.

Oliver Wood had entered the second-years dormitory at the crack of dawn, waking him, gladly informing him that he had booked the Quidditch field for an early training session. Harry got dressed observing the still pink-and-gold sky outside his window and wondering -neither for the first, nor for the last time- if Oliver was completely sane and envying his brother for sleeping; Adrian had made it as a back-up chaser for the team on the try-outs and thus had the luxury of sleep. He kept them in the changing rooms for hours, showing them new moves used from Quiddditch teams around the world during the summer, insisting that, now they had the Cup, it was their job to secure it. The boards with schematics and new strategies kept coming and soon half the team was asleep. Harry's stomach rumbled and thus his joy was undeniable when his brother entered the room, bringing him some toast for breakfast.

"You're a life saver, Adrian." Harry stated as he munched on his toast.

"Don't mention it."

"Aren't you finished yet?" Ron asked confused when the team made it out of the changing room. He and Hermione were sitting at the stands, waiting for the team.

"Haven't even started."

But apparently, it wasn't just Oliver that had had the idea of an early practice. Once they finally reached the field, they found the Slytherin team was already there, claiming they had booked the pit first. And Draco was with them as the new Seeker, bringing with him seven brand-new broomsticks; Harry could clearly read  _Nimbus Two Thousand and One_. As Marcus Flint, the Captain of the Slytherin Team, stated, they had a written permit to use the grounds do they could test their new Seeker. Harry wondered if Severus was aware how Malfoy got into the team; well, of course he would be, but what could he do? He was the feared Head of Slytherin, the big bad bat from the dungeons; he had an image to uphold.

And then Malfoy had to go and call Hermione a Mudblood and Ron had to curse him with his, broken from crashing on the Whomping Willow, wand. The poor boy had been coughing out slugs the whole morning. Hagrid had explained to Hermione what all the commotion over the expletive Draco called her was about as Harry brewed a swift draught for Ron's stomach. Harry still couldn't decide what had been worse; watching slugs pouring out of Ron's mouth, or tasting the treacle toffee Ahgrid had offered him that seemed to have cement like properties. He sighed and stood up; there was no way he could sleep; his mind was filled with Quidditch tactics, transformation incantations, a new sigil he was trying out, words in Gobbledegook and thoughts of whether he should switch to ash wood in his broom making.

Adrian was serving his detention -helping Lockhart with his fan mail- Harry realised. Maybe he should sneak out and wait for him outside Lockhart's office; they could make a quick stop at the kitchens afterwards…

His mind made up, he silently pulled out the invisibility cloak, draped it over his shoulders, grabbed the notebook he used to jot down his thoughts on the broomstick he was designing and a pencil, just in case he would have to wait. Ron -who had detention with Filch- was still out himself but the rest of the year was sleeping. The green eyed wizard slid out the common room, walking down dark corridors and moving towards the Defence professor's office. When he did arrive, he wasn't surprised to find the door closed. He simply sat down on the floor and started going over his notes; he was in the process of writing down a part of an arithmancy formula designed for improving the standard breaking charm often used on broomsticks, making it unbreakable. It was a prospect worth the effort, Harry believed.

He kept reading and writing his thoughts down for what seemed to be over an hour until he was finally starting to get sleepy. He was slowly regretting coming so early; he should have known Lockhart would have piles upon piles of fan mail waiting to be answered. His eyelids were getting heavy and he was doing his best not to fall asleep in the corridor when he heard something that chased all tiredness from his mind.

" _Come… come to me… Let me rip you… Let me tear you…Let me kill you…"_  What was that? Harry stood up in a swift movement, looking around frantically. He had heard a voice, he was sure; it wasn't exactly disembodied, not like one of the numerous spectres in the school. It was coming right out of the walls. Harry looked around him frantically. The corridor was dark, but Harry's night sight was good enough to see it was also empty. And his hearing, which had been gradually improving since his animagus transformation, had definitely caught the voice reverberating through the stone walls. He had heard a voice and it wanted to kill.

The door of Lockhart's office opened then, the noise of creaking wood startling him; Adrian exited the office looking beyond relieved, Lockhart ushering him out, smiling as he claimed that time flew when you were enjoying yourself. None of them seemed the least frightened and Harry immediately knew that neither his brother nor the DADA professor had heard the voice. Harry gulped and tried to calm his nerves. He  _had_  been falling asleep right before he heard the voice after all and ghosts in Hogwarts could go through walls… He shook any grim thoughts away; he just needed to catch up with his sleep. For the moment however, he settled for catching up with his brother who was already leaving, cursing Lockhart under his breath.

"Pssst!" Harry called his brother, making him jump in fear.

"Don't do that!" Adrian complained when a chuckling Harry lifted the cloak slightly so that his brother could slide in. "What are you doing here, Harry?"

"I couldn't sleep and I figured, after hours in the same room as Lockhart, you could do with a visit to the kitchens."

"You have a point there."

"I know." They walked carefully towards the kitchens where a group of excited house elves flooded them with all the food they could ever eat. Harry thanked them politely, his brother catching his attention. Adrian was looking at the numerous elves around the room, almost as if he expected to spot a specific one amongst them. But as soon as it came, the look was gone and Adrian turned his full attention to a caramel éclair. Harry just shook his head, thinking he was imagining things again and that he was long overdue for a good night's sleep. The two brothers laughed quietly all the way back to the Gryffindor tower at Adrian's recount of his detention.

The days passed almost quietly; all September and the greater part of October had to offer Harry in terms of hardship was his Quidditch training. Wood was beyond angry that Slytherin had secured seven Nimbus Two Thousand and One broomsticks for their games and was trying to make up for the fact with having his team double their training. Harry wouldn't particularly mind hadn't it been for the fact that autumn had brought an unusual amount of rain that year. As it was, half the times a practice was over he was covered in mud. Adrian, who, as a replacement had to get some training himself, was grumbling silently about the treatment they underwent while Harry had become quite an expert in mud-removing spells of all sorts.

Harry was returning from one of his practices one afternoon when he met his brother, still covered in mud -the replacement team had finished their practice an hour ago while Harry, being the only Seeker Gryffindor had, Oliver not being pleased with any of the understudies, had been forced to stay under the rain for a  _bit_  longer- conversing with Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost.

"Hey, Harry!" Adrian called his twin from the corridor where Nick had just departed. "Did you shower already?" The hazel eyed boy asked, making Harry roll his eyes.

"No, but I happen to be a wizard." And with a flick of his wand and an incantation, his brother's robes were mud-free too. Adrian smiled.

"You're getting good with those spells."

"For once brother, I'd rather I didn't." Harry answered. "Was that Nearly Headless Nick you were talking to back there?"

"Yep! You won't believe what happened…" Adrian started narrating how Nearly Headless Nick had problems being admitted to the Headless Hunters, how Filch had caught him for dripping mud all over the floor, how there was a strong possibility that the genitor was a Squib and how he had come to be invited to Sir Nicholas's deathday party.

"A deathday party?" Harry asked confused. "Who would someone celebrate their own death?"

"Got me there, but I promised to go." He looked at his brother with a smile. "Say, Harry…"

"Nope, not happening." The green eyed wizard stated, correctly guessing his brother was trying to have him tag-along on Halloween. "I've been waiting for the feast for weeks and besides, I don't fancy staying in the same room with a large amount of ghosts that could float through me at any given time. I'll pass; Ron and Hermione might want to come though." Adrian huffed.

"Fine! But if we end up having a blast…"

"I'll bow to your higher intelligence." Harry finished his sentence, dramatically bowing to emphasize his point. Adrian chuckled at his brother's display and pushed him playfully on the shoulder.

"Race you to the common room!" The hazel eyed boy proclaimed, speeding off. Harry just chuckled and run to catch up with him.

The next evening found an exhausted Harry in Severus's office. The potions master was listening to him complain about Oliver's tendencies of slave-driving with a smile on his face.

"And I swear, he thinks he's training Vratsa Vultures or something! Maybe even the British national team!" Harry exclaimed sulking over his cup of hot chocolate.

"First of, with how the national team's been playing lately,  _that_  could be an idea."

"Thanks." Harry commented drily.

"What?" Severus asked smirking. "Oh, come on! How bad can Wood be?"

"We're practicing almost every day, under pouring rain." Harry stated. "Even Professor McGonagall -and you know how much she likes having that Cup in her office- had to tell him to lay back a little." Severus's eyebrows rose in surprise; Minerva  _really_  loved having the Quidditch Cup in her office.

"And why has he been going so hard on the team this year?"

"It's those bloody brooms Malfoy went and bought for Slytherin." Harry explained sighing. "Oliver's convinced he has to gain back any type of advantage we had through training."

"Are those broomsticks that good?" Severus asked confused. He was mad at Malfoy for buying his way into the team, but there wasn't much he could do without blowing his cover. Still, he hadn't read or heard anything too exciting about the new Nimbus model.

"That's the thing; they're not!" Harry said forcefully. "They out-speed the  _Two Thousand_  model only by five miles per hour and their design is pretty much the same; if any modification has been made, it concerns the long distance travels settings. And I've told Wood as much but did he listen? No, because, apparently, what do  _I_  know?" Yeah, what do  _you_  know? Severus thought sarcastically. You just seem to have a knack at designing racing broomsticks is all.

"But why would Nimbus Co. produce a model so similar to its last?" Severus asked after some consideration. "Makes no sense; they made their reputation based on every model being much better than the last."

"There's been a rumor flying around that the Comet Trading Company has been trying to launch a model for the Quidditch World Cup in two years and the Nimbus Racing Broom Co. has been trying to beat them to it; they launched the  _Two Thousand and One_  model in haste as most of their efforts were focused elsewhere." Harry stated.

"And you know that how?" The potions master asked intrigued; the boy never failed to amaze him.

"I overheard it when we were at Quidditch Supplies in Diagon Alley last summer with my brother." Harry explained. "Anyway, if the  _Two Thousand and One_  is any indication, I don't see them making the deadline." The next week passed uneventfully, Halloween drawing near; Adrian was getting more and more frustrated for agreeing to attend Sir Nicholas's party, but as Hermione had stated, he couldn't back out on his promise. And , while she and Ron were quite excited about the party still, Harry couldn't get the appeal. So, on Halloween afternoon, he waved his brother and his two friends goodbye as he headed towards the Great Hall. The decorations were just as spectacular as ever, live bats flying close to the ceiling and the abnormally large pumpkins Hagrid had provided having been carved and lit.

He sat next to Ginny Weasley on the Gryffindor table and managed to get a good look on her for the first time in weeks; she looked pale and quiet, nothing like the Ginny he knew. He softly remembered Percy making her drink a Pepper-Up potion a few days ago. And now she was playing with the food in her plate, only seldom eating something.

"Hey, Ginny." He greeted the girl softly. The redhead jumped on her seat as if startled.

"Oh, hey, Harry." She greeted him back. Her voice sounded just as tired her eyes looked and the green eyed boy decided he didn't much like it; he'd rather have her smiling.

"I'm sorry to ask Ginny but, are you alright?" She regarded him confused. "I mean, you look tired."

"Oh, that." She actually smiled a little. "I haven't been sleeping that good lately." Ginny admitted. "Never been away from home before; the stress must be getting to me." Harry nodded once, not entirely convinced; he tried to engage in small talk, but all he got in return was short answers; not rude, but very much unlike her. He was about to ask her if she was well again, when Fred interrupted him.

"Is Ron, Adrian and Hermione really at Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party?" He asked with a wide smile.

"Yes, they are." Harry confirmed, his mind still focused on Ginny and her strange behavior.

"Wicked!" Both twins exclaimed.

"Not so much; I bet they'll be starving by now." Ginny spoke softly, slightly surprising Harry in the process.

"How so?" George asked.

"I don't expect food is being served in a party for ghosts." Their sister pointed out. Harry nodded smiling; that was something he hadn't really considered.

"You know what?" He asked, taking the last bite of his treacle tart. "The feast is almost over anyway; I'll walk to the kitchens to see if the house elves can drop something by the Common Room later tonight."

"You have been raised a gentleman, young Harry." Fred stated, assuming a proud countenance, George wiping an imaginary tear from the corner of his eye. Harry just shook his head at their antics, knowing fully well that if they were in his place -though unlikely since the Weasley twins always got in trouble together- they would do just the same. He left the table, barely registering Ginny stating she was feeling tired. In the kitchens, needless to say, the elves were overjoyed at the prospect of serving Adrian Potter and Harry was half debating returning to the feast when he heard it.

"…  _rip… tear… kill…"_  It was the same voice he had heard back when he was expecting his brother to be done with his detention. It was moving away from him and this time he was sure, it was coming through the walls. He pressed his ear on the cold stone and tried to listen;  _"… so hungry… for so long…"_  The voice moved further away and Harry started running to catch up with it.  _"… kill… time to kill…"_  It sounded as if the voice was coming through the ceiling; was it a ghost? He ran faster, reaching the corridor next to the Great Hall. For a moment he thought the buzzing noises from the students still at the feast would prevent him from hearing anything else but he was soon proved wrong.  _"… I smell blood… I SMELL BLOOD!"_  Harry's stomach lurched as he looked around him hopelessly; the voice had come from just around the corner. He pulled out his wand and moved slowly towards it.

The first thing he noticed as he turned was the water on the floor. It was quite dark, light coming only from two torches and the moon peering in the tall arched windows, but it was enough for Harry to catch the reflection on the stone floor. Then there was something written on the wall, in large, bold letters, right between the two windows;

**THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN**

**OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE**

And right beneath that ominous phrase, the most unexpected thing; there, hanging from her tail from the torch bracket was Mrs. Norris, Filch's cat. Harry jumped back shocked, splashing in the puddle of water beneath his feet. How was that possible; Mrs. Norris didn't look stunned; she looked… frozen in time, petrified. A few pairs of footsteps broke him out of his reverie and his fight or flight instinct -flight winning- kicked in. He jumped backwards again and hid behind a thick tapestry that was covering a nook on the wall, the footsteps approached, followed by voices Harry was shocked to recognize as his brother's and his friends.

"Pudding might not be finished yet…" Ron mumbled hopefully.

"Well, we could give it a go." Adrian stated, the hope equally noted in his voice.

"We shouldn't bother; the feast should be almost... Look!" Hermione stated gasping; they must have seen the writing on the wall, Harry figured. And they had, if the exclamations they made were any indication.

"Maybe we should try and help…" Adrian offered.

"We don't want to get caught here, trust me." Ron countered and they moved to leave; but it was not to be. The feast must have ended for the whole student body seemed to leave the Great Hall and flood the corridor. Harry dared to peek behind the tapestry when the voices got closer and, once realizing a group of students -all standing on their toes, some even jumping up and down, trying to see what was going on- was positioned right in front of him, he slid out from his hiding place and mingled with the student body. He managed to make his way to his Housemates, his mind heavy with thoughts. He wanted to visit Severus immediately, to tell him everything that had happened, but he knew leaving the Gryffindor tower that night, even under an invisibility cloak, would be dangerous; there were bound to be extra security measures and the potions master would most probably be patrolling the grounds.

Adrian, Ron and Hermione had been all but questioned about being found in the vicinity of the incident and Harry felt guilty for not saying he was there first; but how could he even begin to explain he had followed a  _voice_  there? That was the same reason he decided not to visit Severus after all; the potions master gave him a few strange glances during their potions lessons but Harry, though admitting something was bothering him, opted on not clarifying what it was before examining the subject further himself.

Adrian was being avoided -for the first time ever- from some students but was trying not to think about it too much. Instead of dealing with those students, he chose to group closer with Ron and Hermione and the sight of those three whispering at the Common Room was a daily occurrence. Harry, feeling he couldn't take on worrying about them too, tried to procure a copy of  _Hogwarts a History_  but all the books available had been already taken from the library and the wait list was two weeks long.

But where else could he find out what the Chamber of Secrets was? He could of course ask Severus, but Harry wanted to approach him with another idea than being crazy and hearing homicidal voices. His questions on the subject were answered, surprisingly, by Professor Binns. Apparently, the Chamber of Secrets was built by Salazar Slytherin himself and it contained a terrible monster bend on ridding the school of Muggleborns and Squibs. Harry's mood couldn't get much worse. Between studying, trying to find evidence that no, he wasn't crazy, and Quidditch practice, he had started sympathizing with the spiders he one day found fleeing the castle.

As the days drew nearer and nearer to the first Quidditch match of the season, Harry's nerves were close to snapping. Lessons with Lockhart had been a nightmare; not keen on bringing any more live creatures in his class, he was happy to read passages from his books and reenact some scenes; usually it was Adrian he chose for said reenactment but, when his brother refused to play the werewolf, Harry was pleased to see Lockhart pale and lose that infuriating smile of his at the boy's far-too-real-for-comfort howl.

Neville -with whom Harry had been getting to spend more time with- had congratulated him while trying to stifle his laughter in his fist as he returned to their shared desk. They mostly sat together at class lately and Harry had been proud to say that his new friend had been tentatively getting out of his shell. It felt good to have a friend that he could call his own in midst of everything that was happening at Hogwarts -and in his head.

And things only took a turn for the worse when, a day before the Quidditch match, Alicia Spinnet was injured falling down the stairs; the girl swore she couldn't remember tripping but with a huge bump on her head and a slight concussion, it wasn't unexpected. What also wasn't unexpected was that Madam Pomfrey had forbidden her to play Quidditch the next day. Adrian took her place instead and Harry had to practically force feed him that night. He tried to calm him down, reminding him that their parents would be there for the match but that only succeeded in terrorizing him even more. No matter what Harry said, he couldn't shake his brother's crazy idea that Sirius and James would never allow him to live it down if they lost tomorrow.

Harry was staring at the curtains of his bed that night unable to sleep that night. Despite his many worries, the game was what stuck out most at the moment and Harry found himself tossing and turning on his bed. Any further thoughts he might have had on the subject were brought to a standstill when his brother's startled voice echoed in the room. At first, Harry supposed it was a nightmare but was about to check on Adrian anyway when he head him talk.

"What are you doing here, Dobby?" Dobby? Harry thought confused.

"Dobby has come to warn you sir." The voice answered; Harry had heard many of his species speak before and he knew without a doubt that his brother was talking to a house elf; Adrian's face as he looked at the elves in the kitchens flew to his mind. So he knew this house elf? From where?

"Warn me of what?" Adrian whispered.

"Adrian Potter should not have returned to Hogwarts, sir! Dobby had hoped that when Adrian Potter couldn't board the train…"

"How do you know about… It was  _you_! You stopped us from boarding the train!" Adrian accused the house elf silently. Someone -Neville judging from the spot where the sound originated from- snored loudly and the conversation between the unlikely pair became even more hushed; somehow, Harry had no problem listening to them.

"Dobby ironed his hands afterwards as a punishment, sir." The elf stated piteously and Harry shook his head resigned; it was truly hard to stay mad at a house elf for long.

"You can't keep me away from Hogwarts Dobby, I told you so." So this Dobby was trying to keep him away from the school? Why?

"Terrible things are happening in Hogwarts, sir. Dobby wants only what's best for you, sir. And now that the Chamber is opened again…" A gasp was heard and Harry wasn't certain whether it was Adrian or the house elf that produced it.

"The Chamber had been opened before?" Adrian asked eagerly. Nice question there, Harry thought as he moved closer to his curtains, trying to catch every word that might come from the elf.

"Dobby shouldn't say… bad Dobby!" And then a few thuds were heard along with his brother's whispered protests that clearly showed Dobby was punishing himself.

"Stop Dobby, it's an order!" Even if Adrian wasn't the elf's master, the direct order was obviously enough to prevent the elf of causing extended damage to himself.

"Adrian Potter must leave Hogwarts sir, or terrible things will happen, sir." Yes, we got it, terrible things will happen, care to elaborate? Harry thought anxiously.

"My brother and friends are here Dobby and one of them is Muggleborn; I can't leave them and go!" The house elf was sent in a delirious speech of Adrian's greatness and his chivalrous heart while the hazel eyed Potter tried to convince him into saying what he knew of the Chamber. Unfortunately, their increasing in volume conversation woke somebody up.

"Watsup?" A groggy voice sounded from the other side of the room before a soft cracking noise announced the house elf leaving.

"Ron, you won't believe what happened again!" Adrian whispered to his redhead friend; Harry had the fleeting suspicion he would have to fly tomorrow with only a few hours of sleep. He was right.


	29. Petrified Students And Suspicions

The next morning, Harry woke up with a headache from all the information he had gotten last night, the usual dread before a Quidditch match and the strong notion he would have to speak with Severus immediately after the game. He had delayed it for far too long already and he could see the potions master was very close at giving him a detention just to get him talk. He threw away the covers, rubbed his eyes open and headed for the bathroom to throw some water on his face, waking his brother up in the process.

The two boys, along with Neville who had woken up to wish Harry good luck, were soon at the Great Hall with the rest of the team, eating silently at the empty table of the Gryffindor House before heading to the field. Harry almost forgot his own tangled nerves in his attempt to calm his ashen faced brother; Adrian was fidgeting, fixing his glasses that weren't even slipping from his nose, trying to straighten his hair or his robes.

"Once you get out there, you'll feel much better." Harry insisted, smiling confidently. Not that he felt confident at all about winning the game, but he knew for sure that most of the hassle was getting at the field. Once you were there, you were far too focused on playing to actually care about your anxieties.

"You think?" Adrian asked hopefully.

"I know." Harry stated, winking at his brother in a perfect imitation of Lockhart.

"Team, gather around!" Wood called as footsteps were heard above them, the tall-tale sign that students were gathering on the stands.

"There we go again…" George muttered.

"Slytherin has better brooms than us," he began. "No point denying it. But we've got better  _people_  on our brooms. We've flown at all weathers…" ("Too true." Muttered George Weasley. "I haven't been properly dry since August.") "…and we're going to make them rue the day they let that little bit of slime, Malfoy, buy his way into the team." Eyes sparkling with a crazy gleam, Oliver turned his eyes towards Harry. "It'll be down to you, Harry, to show them that a Seeker has to have more than a rich father. Get to that Snitch before Malfoy or die trying, Harry, because we've got to win today, we've got to."

"So no pressure, Harry." Said Fred, winking at him.

"Is he always like that?" Adrian asked a little scared.

"Scary and paranoid?" Harry asked back lightheartedly.

"Yes."

"Yes." Harry repeated as an answer.

"Oh." Adrian simply stated smiling faintly. The team made it out amidst loud cheers from their House -Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff too, both Houses had spent too much time losing against Slytherin to not hold a bit of a grudge- and boos from the green clad fans of the Slytherin team. It was pouring, but the two teams paid no notice and gathered in the middle of the field. After the promise of a clean match was made to Madam Hooch, the teams took off. Harry immediately began looking for the elusive golden ball, not wanting Malfoy to get his hands on it first.

The blond Seeker proved he wasn't above cheating when he grabbed the back of Harry's broomstick to stop him from getting the Snitch. Harry had turned to Fred and George, trying to see why they weren't throwing a Bludger at Malfoy, only to find them defending his brother with all their might from a Bludger that seemed to be targeting him specifically. A few near misses of Adrian's head and Oliver had to call for a timeout.

Adrian had vehemently refused to forfeit the match just because a Bludger was trying to decapitate him and Harry, caught between his usual urge to protect his brother and his thirst to win the match, vowed to get the Snitch as fast as he could. And he did just that, getting the Snitch right under Malfoy's nose; literally too, since the Slytherin Seeker was so absorbed with making fun of Adrian who was avoiding the Bludger with all he had, he didn't notice the Snitch hovering next to his head.

The team had gathered to celebrate in the middle of the field when Harry caught it with the corner of his eye; the Bludger that had been targeting Adrian during the whole game was coming towards him yet again; it hit his brother straight to the chest, and knocked him of his broom, before returning to finish the job. Not having time to draw his wand from such a distance, Harry simply placed himself between his brother and the Bludger. The sickening crack and the searing pain on his left arm easily informed him of a broken bone. He pulled out his wand swiftly with his right hand and pointed it at the Bludger.

" _Reducto!_ " He bellowed, the jet of magic from his wand turning the Bludger into fine dust.

"Harry!" Adrian called shocked. "Your arm! What were you thinking?" His words were coming out slurred and Harry realized he had hit his head falling.

"That I'd rather my brother kept his head on his shoulders." Harry admitted with a pained smile. "Ouch, by the way."

"Adrian! Harry!" Lily's voice echoed in the field, rising above all the ruckus around. "Harry, are you alright?"

"Great catch, kiddo!" Sirius called from behind her. "Malfoy never saw what hit him!" Lily glared at him and Sirius stopped in his tracks. "Sorry, Lily."

"It was a great catch though." James added.

"James, could you stop it!" Lily hollered and turned her attention back to her amused, albeit in pain, son. "Harry what were you thinking! And Adrian, are you alright?" She added, noticing the swelling bump on Adrian's head. The boy simply nodded, regretting moving his head the very next moment. Harry was more vocal in his response;

"Why does everybody ask me that? Would you rather I'd let Adrian get hit?" That seemed to placate her a little as she gathered her youngest into her arms, minding his arm.

"You're an amazing brother, Harry. And I'm proud of you; but if you ever do something like that again you'll be grounded until you turn seventeen." She stated amidst tears.

"Clear the way, clear the way!" Lockhart's voice broke through the gathering crowds. Neville, who was following after him, run as fast as he could to reach Harry first, pointing at Lockhart's hand as he went. The blond professor's wand was drawn and Harry could guess he wanted to try healing his arm. Nodding thankfully to Neville for the heads up, he turned to his family;

"What do you say we take this to the infirmary?" Harry asked, more than glad when his parents agreed, taking him away from a disappointed Lockhart. Harry caught Severus's eye and send him a look that clearly stated 'talk to you later'. The potions master nodded and smiled slightly, before shaking is head and waking towards the Slytherin team; this was one of the few times he could scold Malfoy without raising suspicions and he wasn't letting it go to waste.

"But why would a Bludger do that?" Remus wondered while Madam Pomfrey worked on Harry's hand. "They're not supposed to target players specifically."

"Well this one did." Sirius offered, looking pensive.

"I don't know how to thank you, Harry…" Adrian mumbled for the tenth time that hour. The hazel eyed twin had his head bandaged and was lying on a bed next to Harry.

"Nonsense!" Harry retorted. "You're my brother, Adrian; jumping in front of a rampaging Bludger is the least I could do. If anything, I should have moved faster!" Adrian smiled weakly and nodded once. Harry wasn't fooled and expected to be thanked all over again in about ten minutes. The hazel eyed twin had a concussion and some bruised ribs and would be forced to spend the night in the infirmary.

"And it was a brave thing to do." Lily stated, ruffling her green-eyed son's hair.

"Was that the Reductor Curse you used on the Bluger?" James asked interested.

"Yeah, it was."

"That's advanced magic Harry, for your age." James stated with a smile. "And it was a potent one too!"

"I found the spell in the library last month; I hadn't really tried it." And it was the truth; he hadn't tried that specific spell before. It was just the first one relevant that popped into his mind.

"My son, the bookworm." Lily said fondly.

"I resent that!" Harry huffed in annoyance, causing some laughter. "No, really, I do! Here I am, in the infirmary, being treated for a broken bone I got playing Quidditch and yet you call me a bookworm!"

"He's got you there, Lily." Sirius offered with an amused smirk.

"Speaking of your broken arm," Madam Pomfrey stated, "you're good to go. Now, it was a nasty one and it might sting a bit for the rest of the day. If you don't put much weight into it for the next couple of hours it will be completely fine by nightfall."

"Thank you, Madam Pomfrey." Harry said smiling. "Will you be alright?" He asked his brother, a bit guilty he got to leave before him.

"For the third time, I'll be just fine, Harry! Ron and Hermione will drop by later anyway; just go have fun." Harry smiled and nodded in agreement; the party of five walked all the way up to the Gryffindor tower, where the adults, with a strong feeling of nostalgia, said their goodbyes and left the boy to return. The greeting by his Housemates was loud to say the least. A few of Fred and George's fireworks flew around the room and someone had obviously paid a visit to the kitchens judging from the abundance of food laying around.

"Amazing catch, Harry!" Neville exclaimed, running to greet his friend. "But is your hand alright? And how's Adrian?"

"He's just fine." Harry assured the boy. "A little startled and dizzy from a very impressive bump he managed to get on his head, but otherwise unharmed. And Madam Pomfrey healed my arm in no time." He said smiling. "Thanks by the way, Nev; who knows what would have happened had Lockhart managed to reach me!"

"Don't mention it, Harry!" Neville stated smiling back at the green eyed wizard. "That's what friends are for, right?" Harry's smile widened at the proclamation, threatening to tear his face in two.  _Friend_. He used to think he had had friends before, but that title was mostly held by Ron and Hermione. And those two were friends of his brother that occasionally hang out with him too. But a friend all of his own? Someone that had chosen to befriend him for himself? He had never had that before Neville.

"That's exactly what friends are for, Nev!" Harry agreed and pushed his friend towards the twins that were once again showcasing their aptitude for all things prak related in the middle of the room.

It was late at night when Harry finally had the occurrence to take the cloak from his brother's trunk and slip outside the Common Room, trying to find an easy way to broach the subject of him hearing voices to Severus; was there even a way to broach such a subject and not end up sounding crazy? He was at the bottom of the Grand Staircase when he heard it.

"…  _tear… kill…"_  Harry froze.

"Not again!" He mumbled as he ran towards the voice, wand drawn. Rationally it was the wrong thing to do, run towards an unidentified danger. But what could he do? Last time it was Mrs. Norris who got petrified; what if something worse happened this time?

"…  _I can smell you… so hungry…"_  The voice was going upwards again and Harry followed.

"…  _kill… time to kill…"_  The sound was coming from a few corridors up still. It was close to… the infirmary? Harry doubled his efforts, thinking of his brother.

"…  _die, Mudblood!"_  Harry run the few stairs stood frozen at the sight than greeted him. On the floor lay a prone form, a small body, his camera still held in front of his face. Colin Creevy lay on the floor petrified. Harry couldn't tell how long he stood there; a noise was heard from the stairs bellow him and he looked down to see the Headmaster, clad in woolen robes and a nightcap, a steaming cup in his hands, climbing the stairs. Not wanting to be found there, Harry walked softly towards the corridor behind him, running only when he turned around the first corner. Out of breath he knocked on Severus's office.

"Calm down, Harry!" Severus exclaimed as the boy entered the office in a half invisible blear. "What happened?"

"Colin Creevy. He's been petrified! Dad, I was just there! It was the voice. I followed it there." Harry was breathing heavily, pacing up and down the room. How could this have happened?

"A student petrified?" Severus asked numbly. "And you followed a voice? What voice?" The flames in the fireplace turned green and Severus placed the invisibility cloak swiftly on Harry before hastily replacing his disillusionment charms and approaching; the face of Minerva McGonagall appeared on the burning embers.

"Severus!" She called; there was anxiousness in her tone, panic even.

"Minerva? What seems to be the problem?"

"A student was found by Albus on the Grand Staircase. A first year student petrified! It's awful, Severus!" Harry had never heard the usually collected Deputy Headmistress sound like that.

"Calm down, Minerva." Severus spoke evenly. "Is the student at the infirmary?"

"Yes, Albus carried him there." She breathed in deeply. "Can you come over? We need your confirmation that it's the same thing that happened to Filch's cat."

"I'm on my way. Should I alert the students?"

"Albus said we shouldn't; they will find out tomorrow, we shouldn't spread panic in the middle of the night." The potions master nodded.

"I will be there in a few minutes." McGonagall's face disappeared from the fireplace and Severus turned back to Harry who took off the cloak.

"Sev, I…"

"I'll be back in an hour tops. You should stay here and try to relax; then I want you to tell me everything." He waved his wand producing a cup of hot chocolate as Harry sat in an armchair. The minutes ticked by slowly as Harry thought. The voice had to be real; how else could it lead him to the place of the attack? But why was he the only one to hear it? He looked at the empty painting on the wall deep in thought. What was happening in Hogwarts this time?

In the meantime, Severus had reached the infirmary. The student was indeed a first year Gryffindor called Colin Creevy and a great fan of Adrian Potter. He had apparently sneaked out of the Gryffindor Common Room to snap a picture of his hero. Hoping he had caught a glimpse of the attacker, Albus had opened the lid of his camera; a thick grey smoke and the smell of burned plastic was all his action revealed. Dumbledore seemed to know who the Heir was, Severus thought as he returned to his office, having verified Creevy had fallen victim of the same fate that had befallen Mrs. Norris. Albus knew but still seemed perplexed as to how it was possible. And a perplexed Albus was never good news.

Then there was Harry, the potions master thought quickening his step. The boy had avoided speaking to him for a few weeks; that in itself was highly unusual. The fact that he seemed preoccupied was unnerving. The way he looked earlier that night was right down disturbing; he had been pale and going on and on about a voice that had led him to the scene of the crime. He opened the door to his office, a pair of emerald eyes boring into his immediately.

"Is Colin really…"

"Yes, he has been petrified." Severus confirmed; Harry sunk back into the armchair.

"Oh." He mumbled softly.

"You wanted to tell me something before Minerva called." The potions master reminded him, sitting right across him. Harry lifted his eyes contemplative, as if he was trying to fond the right words. That too, was never good news.

"Last spring, Ron Weasley told me that I was loosing my mind from all the studying I was doing." Harry began, remembering a conversation from last May.

"Why is this relevant?"

"I think he was right."

"On you studying too much?" Severus offered, trying to lift his mood.

"Not that. The losing my mind part." Harry corrected him.

"And what made you think you're losing your mind?"

"I…" Harry looked at the floor crestfallen. "I may be hearing voices that nobody else hears." He finally admitted.

"Voices?"

"Well, one voice really. Quite the bloodthirsty one; it keeps repeating that it wants to kill someone…" Harry looked back at Severus's eyes with fear.

"To kill you said?" Severus asked. Harry hearing voices was not a good thing indeed. Mostly because it was Harry who was hearing them and that probably indicated a magical threat rather than insanity. And with the resent attacks…

"Yep." Harry agreed trying and failing to sound lighthearted. "I hear a murderous voice coming from the walls. Not a very good sign for my sanity, I fear."

"For argument's sake," Severus began as he rose from his chair to sit at the corner of his desk, closer to Harry. "Let's say you're not -and I truly believe you're not- crazy." Harry nodded, quite liking the idea. "And if you're not crazy, there has to be another explanation for the voice."

"Like what?" Harry asked, sitting straighter in his chair.

"You said you're the only one who can hear it?"

"Yes." Harry confirmed. "I was waiting for Adrian to get through with his detention with Lockhart first time I heard it." Harry explained rubbing his eyes. "I thought that Adrian might need to see a friendly face after so many hours locked in the same room as Lockhart, answering his mail, but the detention went on forever and I was half asleep on the floor. When I heard the voice, I passed it off as a ghost playing tricks, quite possibly Peeves."

"Reasonable enough." Severus agreed.

"The second time, was right before Mrs. Norris was petrified. Adrian, Ron and Hermione had managed to get stack at Nearly Headless Nick's deathday party without food and I had, kind of, ditched them to go to the Halloween feast; I decided to ask the house elves to prepare something for them and take it to the Common Room when I heard the voice, claiming it wanted to kill, heading towards the Great Hall; I had just read the message on the wall when Adrian showed up; I hid behind the tapestry and mingled with the students when the feast was over."

"And why didn't you tell me then?" Severus asked confused.

"I wanted to, but I thought… I just wanted to have a better explanation than being crazy before I said anything." Harry looked ashamed as he admitted why he was avoiding him; it was silly of course, Harry thinking that he could ever believe him crazy, Severus thought.

"You know you can talk to me about anything, right?" The potions master asked.

"Yeah."

"And I want you to; even if it is about voices you hear that shouldn't be there." He thought of his statement a bit better. "Especially if it is about voices you hear." He corrected.

"Do you…" Harry gulped. "Do you think if I had told you sooner Colin wouldn't…"

"No. Don't shoulder the blame for that too." Severus warned him. "We have no idea what's responsible for these attacks and who this Heir is. Well, Dumbledore seems to know, but even he couldn't do anything to prevent the latest attack." Harry nodded once, not completely convinced.

"Anyway, the third time I heard it was tonight; I followed it all the way to the place where I found Colin. But I was already on the way to tell you. After Dobby popped in last night…"

"Dobby?" Severus asked confused.

"A house elf that visited my brother last night…" Harry explained, narrating what he had heard. The potions master rubbed his eyes tiredly; how could a house elf know what was to happen in Hogwarts before it did? How could an elf know about the attacks? And if the elf, Dobby, did know, why did he warn Adrian and not the Headmaster?

"Let's take one thing at a time here before  _I_  lose my mind." Severus suggested.

"Okay."

"First of all, promise you will always come to me when something bothers you; the way I see it, hearing you out and helping every way I can is in my job description." Harry smiled.

"I promise, Dad." Severus smiled back.

"Now, back to that voice; I believe we can say for sure that it's not a product of your imagination." Severus explained. "It has led you to the place of the attacks twice already."

"So you think that the voice and the attacks are connected?" Harry asked.

"Admit you have already thought about it, even fleetingly." Severus stated, cocking an eyebrow. Harry nodded; he had thought about it, but only after the second attack. After all, the first time he heard the voice there had been no petrified victim to account for.

"After tonight I did, yes."

"And if it's not just in your mind, it's real. And if it's real, why are you the only one hearing it?" Severus asked, the question sending both of them into a contemplative silence.

Harry concentrated, gathering his tired mind as better as he could. What made him different than the rest of the present occupants in the castle that could lead him into hearing voices? Well, he  _was_  an alchemist,Harry thought, but hearing voices -just like in most magical arts, with perhaps the notable exception of Divination- was generally frowned upon amongst alchemists too. His eyes widened at the next possible solution; on one hand it would make sense, as, in essence, he  _did_  possess an ability allowed him to hear voices that others didn't and, on the other hand, it would make no sense at all. For why would a snake be attacking Muggleborn students?

"Sev?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Any ideas?"

"Just one."

"And that would be?" The potions master urged him on.

"Could me being a Parselmouth have had anything to do with that voice I've been hearing?" Severus cocked an eyebrow as he pondered the green eyed boy's suggestion. Because while, yes, it was the most viable explanation -when Salazar Slytherin got involved snakes always followed- it didn't quite foreshadow well.

"It most probably does." The potions master agreed, nodding absentmindedly. "But I'm not sure if that's reassuring."

"You'd rather I'd gone mental?" Harry asked with a soft smirk.

"No. Not really." The potions master agreed, his expression still one of worry. "Still, you do realize that, if it's indeed a snake you're hearing -and what else could it be with the Heir of Slytherin supposedly in Hogwarts?- then it's a snake with homicidal tendencies, strongly prejudiced against Muggleborns and with the ability to petrify them. And it's somehow slithering unseen around the castle, at the beck and call of whoever this supposed heir is." Harry leaned back on his chair.

"I see your point." He admitted. "What I don't understand is," Harry begun after a lengthy pause "what kind of snake could do something like that? What species has the power to petrify?"

"That, Harry, is yet another good question." Severus stated, making a mental list of the abilities of each kind of snake he knew. Many could poison, some had magical properties of various types and many -magical or not- could kill. But petrify? "And one I'm afraid I can't answer." The potions master concluded with a sigh. He could already feel a massive headache coming his way.


	30. Restricted Potions And A Strange Diary

Harry was fuming; it was true that it wasn't the first time it happened, but he was slowly getting frustrated. Adrian was whispering with Ron and Hermione again, their hushed tones not passing as anything close to the inconspicuous conversation they aimed for. And it wasn't that Harry was opposed to Adrian having his secrets and his own life; he imagined being opposed to something like that would be pretentious at the least, considering the secrets himself kept. But they were twins. And while he kept his secrets, the green eyed boy thought, he did it to protect his brother; if telling wouldn't put his brother in immediate danger, he would have told him everything. But this wasn't a life and death situation; it was some sort of mischief Adrian was going to get involved with along with Ron and Hermione and, once again, he wasn't included in their private circle.

So he just watched them from behind his Charms textbook, talking and plotting, ignorant to him observing them. But then again the rest of the Common Room seemed oblivious to their conspiratorial conversation; his fellow Gryffindors were currently far too absorbed looking at the next grand pyrotechnic display of the Weasley twins to notice, so the golden trio -as the students had taken to calling Adrian, Ron and Hermione- had no reason to believe they were being watched. Harry sighed and tried to concentrate on his textbook again; it was Charms, this time for real, just not of the second year. Though anyone that looked at what he was reading would be none the wiser, he was studying sixth year material.

His attention however, as it usually went when his brother was plotting something that could possibly prove dangerous for his own wellbeing, just wasn't in it. It had been a hectic month since Severus and Harry had realised it was a snake that caused the attacks; what type was still uncertain and Severus was getting on his last nerve, looking down right murderous while reading all the books he could find on the subject. Harry himself was dividing his time between trying to find out what his brother was up to and moving on with his studies; the potions master had urged him to go on, reminding him that falling behind schedule would do nothing but prevent him from dealing with the snake when the time came.

Severus of course, had no intention of letting him deal with Slytherin's monster alone -probably didn't even want him near a ten mile radius of it, Harry realized- but he was doing his best to make sure the green eyed wizard wasn't obsessing over it. Harry, on his part, was trying to fill his free time with anything else but the snake, since he had hit a dead end on his own research; so he read on alchemy, charms, hexes, potions, runes and even his animagus transformation…

"…are you sure we have everything we need?" Ron asked from across the room. And speaking of animagus transformations, the green eyed wizard thought, he really shouldn't have heard Ron from that far away; the redhead was whispering after all. He had noticed occurrences like that before and a bit of careful reading on some old parchments from Nicholas's collection Severus had smuggled in the castle confirmed his suspicions; it seemed that, once an animagus transformation was completed successfully, elements of the human and the animal form leaked to each other. It was usually the stronger or one of the strongest characteristics of each form, so Severus and Harry had been experiencing some improvement in their hearing, one of the strongest assets of a wolf. It also explained, the green eyed boy guessed, why both his and Severus's wolf forms were pitch black, what with their hair and everything. And it definitely gave him some insight on Sirius's character.

"Everything is set; don't worry, Ron." Hermione assured him and then they resumed talking, whispering too softly for even Harry to hear in the crowded Common Room that was still too noisy, despite the firework show was over. Harry knew enough to understand that, when asking if they had everything they needed, Ron was referring to potions ingredients. After a disastrous potions class where a Filibuster firework had magically appeared inside a cauldron filled with Swelling Solution that ended up on various students, a fuming Severus had discovered some ingredients from his personal storage had gone missing.

After Harry had eavesdropped on his brother a bit, they had managed to put two and two together and the green eyed wizard had to restrain Severus from slipping some truth serum in Adrian's cup, reminding him it was slightly illegal to drug students. And though they had no real evidence of the golden trio being behind the theft, the potions master had made the unnerving discovery that the ingredients taken were used primarily for the Polyjuice potion. Harry was still mentally recovering from that one.

"Studying for Charms?" Neville's voice sounded tired as he slumped next to his friend on the couch, his DADA textbook -well, one of them- in his hand and a look of hopelessness on his face.

"Yes." Harry offered simply, smiling sympathetically at his friend's predicament.

"I swear, if I read another line on how amazing Lockhart is, I'm hexing him next chance I get!"

"That's the spirit!" Harry exclaimed, congratulating Neville who was still a bit taken aback from his own proclamation.

"Lockhart's books are messing with my mind, I swear." Well, at least you're not dealing with the voice of an unknown murderous snake, Nev, Harry thought tiredly.

"I think your mind is rebelling against Lockhart's writing, honestly." Harry offered. It was nice to see Neville expressing himself without feeling embarrassed, even if it was just when he was around, the green eyed wizard surmised.

"Between Quirrell and Lockhart, it's no surprise I can't cast a good defence spell to save my life!" The brown eyed boy stated self-depreciatingly. Harry pondered on that for a few seconds; there was a war coming, sometime in the future, and he didn't know when exactly; maybe it would be in a decade, maybe in a month. What would happen to Neville then? He shivered at the thought; his mind was made up without hesitation.

"Look, Nev," Harry began, taking a spare scroll from the table in front of him where his completed transfiguration essay lay, inking his quill and writing down the titles of a couple of the books he had read and had helped him with his basic spellwork; he knew that if Neville wanted to improve -and he knew that his friend not only wanted to that but also had what it took to achieve it- he would have to start with the basics. "Here are some books that have really helped me out." Harry said and gave the small list to Neville. "You can start with those, you can borrow them from the library, and then continue with our year's normal curriculum. Once you've read them, I'll help you practice. How does that sound?" Neville just looked between the list in his hands and Harry in utter disbelief.

"You mean it?"

"I wouldn't offer to help you if I didn't mean it." Harry assured him with a smile. "Isn't that what friends are for?" Neville's answering smile was blinding, his eyes moist.

"That's exactly what friends are for!" He answered and Harry chuckled at the role reversal. He couldn't wait till Christmas day; Neville was bound to be stunned with his gift. He had been working on that idea for months and Severus had been overjoyed to help.

Well, Severus had been overjoyed that Harry had finally found a friend his age in general and wholly approved of the green eyed wizard's choice; Neville Longbottom was a timid boy, he had said, but only due to the way he was raised. He had potential, Severus was sure, and had gladly agreed to help orchestrate what Harry had in mind. And that was the only thing that Severus had enjoyed the past few weeks. With everything that was on his mind, he was very close to his breaking point.

So, it came as no surprise to Harry that the potions master chose to unleash some of his pent-up frustration just to torment Lockhart. The green eyed wizard didn't mind anyway; the prancing idiot had managed to take a Duelling Club and turn it to a theatre, thus Severus had actually volunteered to help him just so he could get a chance to curse him to oblivion. Harry was one of the students clapping when he hexed Lockhart with a vicious Expelliarmus to the other side of the room. Even the ponce had realized he was out of his league and hastened to pair the students for some practice.

Adrian was just about to duel with Ron, Harry taking his place opposite to Neville when his brother caught Draco's sneer from the other side of the room; the staring contest evolved into a duel, with Lockhart shouting at them that they were only supposed to disarm their opponent. The blond had even gone and used some basic burgeoning spells that were inadmissible to duels between minors and would have caused serious damage had someone else been his opponent instead of Adrian. One of the deflected curses from Adrian's shielding charm almost hit Justin Finch-Fletchley in the face, resulting to the poor boy fainting from the mere shock.

And while Harry and Severus were unsuccessful in their attempts to find the attacker or the kind of snake that caused the attacks, a day after the Duelling Club incident, Justin was found petrified, having escaped bodily damage from Draco's curses only to be assaulted by Slytherin's monster pet. And even worse? Petrified next to him floated Nearly Headless Nick.

"How in bloody hell can you petrify a ghost?" Harry had exclaimed furiously at Severus's office that night. It was a mark of how preoccupied the potions master was that he didn't even caution the green eyed wizard to watch his language. And worst thing was, it had been Adrian who had discovered the victims and Peeves who had stumbled over Adrian; once again rumours flied around the school with the poltergeist feeding the fire, up to the point were everybody suspected it was Adrian himself that was the Slytherin Heir. That had only seemed to have intensified his brother's urgency to finish whatever it was he was planning with his friends and Harry's urge to bang his head against the wall.

And there they were, a few days before Christmas holidays, planning to stay in the castle once again. Their parents would be busy for most of the holidays and, while the Potter twins would floo over a day before Christmas, they would spend the greater part of their holidays at Hogwarts. That worked just fine for Adrian it seemed, but not for Harry who, besides dreading that whatever his brother was planning would prove catastrophic, had also been dying to try out his latest design; all those sleepless nights and the pent up worry had led to some very productive late night designs on his broomstick side-project.

"Studying for Charms?" Fred asked plopping down next to Harry on the couch startling the boy from his thoughts.

"Yep." Harry answered laconically, closing the book as he scooted over for George to sit down too.

"Blimey mate! Is that all you do?" George asked cocking an eyebrow. They seemed in a much more serious disposition than they usually were, Harry realized, and couldn't help wondering why. A letter in Fred's hand, on which he could just make out the writing of their mother told him part of the story; and the fact that the twins had gotten detention again, blowing up Merlin knew what a few days ago told him the rest.

"Trouble at home?" He asked calmly as the two of them looked at each other.

"Perceptive, aren't ya?" George asked sighing. Whatever that letter was, it must have been pretty bad.

"So I've been told." Harry agreed with a nod. "And that means I'm right?"

"Yeah." Fred confirmed. "Mom learned of our latest detention and…"

"I get it." Harry assured him.

"I'm not sure you do." George stated, sharing a look with his brother. The green eyed wizard regarded them carefully.

"And why would that be? Surely, your mother can't be that angry…"

"It's not that, mate. It's just that…"

"…everybody knows you're some sort of renegade Ravenclaw, joining Gryffindor just for the better Quidditch team." Fred completed his brother's sentence in a matter-of-fact voice.

"What?" Harry asked confused. "Nobody thinks of me like that! Do they?" Suddenly the Common Room felt just a bit smaller.

"They do; even Flitwick said so once." Harry's eyes widened in confusion.

"Professor Flitwick thinks that I'm a renegade Ravenclaw?"

"No, but he said you should be in Ravenclaw and… you know what? That's actually why you don't get it." The green eyed boy opted on agreeing; he surely didn't get it now.

"I must admit that you lost me."

"What Fred means," George explained "is that you're the top student in your year and the Gryffindor Seeker. Mom was talking to Remus who told her something about a magazine subscription he got you for Christmas last year and she tends to compare…" He mumbled almost inaudibly. Harry smiled sadly.

"My mother does the same you know." The twins' attention shifted from looking at the carpet gloomily to him in a fraction of a second.

"She does?" They chorused, two identical, confused pairs of blue eyes staring back at him.

"Not consciously, I think, but she does." Harry assured them shrugging. "Just with my mother… she's not one that will send a letter about it but I can see it sometimes, when Adrian and I are in the same room with her. It's the little things in my case, but I get what you mean." Fred and George regarded Harry just a little differently, not like they had never seen him before, just as if they had discovered something about him that they had never imagined was there. And Harry on his part understood there was more to the twins than playfulness and pranks.

"Maybe you do get it after all." Fred admitted, stealing a glance towards Adrian.

"Well, at least you don't get the comparison shoved in your face." George offered.

"Was it the detention that did it this time?" Harry asked curiously.

"It's not just that." George admitted.

"OWLs are coming next year and Mom wanted to know what we're thinking of doing after school." Fred explained. "She was hoping we'd want to work in the Ministry, we said no, and things just got nastier from that point."

"I see. And just what do you want to do after school?"

"We were thinking of opening our own shop in Diagon Alley." George confessed after a short pause. "A jokes' shop, just like Zonko's."

"You sure have the knack for it." Harry said smiling; he could see that happening in a few years.

"I wish Mom saw it your way." George was looking at the letter in Fred's hands as he spoke.

"Well, that's not as important as it seems now." Harry stated. "You can't decide for your future based on what everyone else wants you to do. It's your future after all."

"Yeah but…"

"Look at it this way." The green eyed wizard interrupted Fred. "If you follow a career you don't really like, you'll end up miserable or at least forever live to wonder what would have happened if you had followed your dream. Do you think your mother wants that?"

"No…" They both mumbled.

"Exactly. If you try and see it her way, I believe you'll find out she's just scared; your mother understands that it will be easier to just work at the Ministry. It will give you a steady job and an income that will support a comfortable life for you. Having your own business is that much more risky, I guess. But if you really want it and work towards making it true, you'll win her over eventually, don't worry." Harry said, trying to reassure the twins.

"Our little Harrykins has gone and matured on us!" Fred exclaimed with a smirk, his eyes finally sparkling again.

"And so smart too!" George seconded.

"So smart, I seldom understand a word I say." Harry offered seriously, causing a round of chuckles. "But really now, if opening a shop is what you want, give it a try. I, for one, would put money on that idea."

"We might just take you up on that one, Potter!" George threatened.

"So, should we expect you to follow our path and not become the perfect Head Boy everyone expects?" Fred asked.

"The perfect Head Boy? Merlin forbid!" Harry exclaimed in mock fear.

"Then what should we expect from you? A career in Quidditch perhaps?" Harry chuckled once.

"Quidditch, you said?" He asked, thinking of the half finished designs of race broomsticks inside his trunk. "That's a thought."

"I'm happily surprised, my dear boy!" Fred announced in his best Dumbledore imitation.

"Jubilant I would say! Ecstatic!" George added, imitating Percy and shaking Harry's hand for a good measure.

"I just can't get your surprise. I'm already a renegade Ravenclaw, as you said; what's stopping me from being a complete wild card?" The green eyed wizard rationalised with a smirk.

"Nothing we can see!" Both twins exclaimed. The evening passed pleasantly after that; Harry decided to spend more time with the twins in the future. There was definitely more to them than what met the eye and he could connect to that a bit.

The week ended and the majority of the students returned home for the winter break. Hermione, the Weasleys, Neville, who had asked his grandmother if he could stay -and be spared the grand family reunion, citing he needed to study as a reason- and the Potters were practically the only ones left in Gryffindor house and even Harry and Adrian left for the day before Christmas, as their parents would be away for a week and return just after New Year's Eve. Harry thought he might have been seeing things, but there was some sort of tension between Lily and James that wasn't there before. He wrote it off as his imagination as he returned to the castle early on Christmas morning.

Presents had been exchanged and, after having a good laugh at the newly enchanted -courtesy of the Weasley twins- Percy's Prefect badge, that now read Pin-Head, the green eyed Potter twin walked towards the dungeons to Severus's office. His brother and his friends seemed over excited that morning, but it was Christmas after all and besides, the only interesting thing that Harry had gotten out of his brother was that, when he had gone to Dumbledore's office after discovering Justin and Nick, Fawkes had regenerated.

So, deciding to enjoy Christmas day, Harry told Neville not to give him his present yet and meet him at the Great Hall in an hour; like that, he was dungeon bound and had just enough time to exchange his gifts with Severus before going to fetch Neville for his Christmas surprise.

"Merry Christmas, Harry!" The potions master exclaimed when the boy in question entered his office. He was in a good mood from what Harry could see and that promptly put a smile on his face. Severus had gotten him some freshly cut ash branches, perfect for the broom he was designing, a professional broomsmith kit -all prototype models were made using those tools he explained, after Harry got over the fact said tools were made from pure silver- and a scroll he insisted he would give him later, just to heighten the suspense.

Harry on his part, presented him with three large tomes on potions, neatly wrapped in dark green paper, titled Scinncræft DrenceBréowan, or The Art of Potion-Making; the books were clad in the finest dark brown leather with swirling patterns of silver on their backs. Severus opened the first one, with a child-like excitement. His mouth fell open at the sight.

"Were did you find these texts?" He asked, his eyes skimming over recipes and potions rare or forgotten.

"I asked Minnie to visit my vault and find anything there was on Nicholas's collection on the subject of rare potions; it was mostly in different scrolls and in various states of fraying parchment, but I asked her to bring those I found interesting at school a few at a time, since I didn't finish the whole thing during the summer. I only read a few in detail, but I did my best to catalogue them and make legible copies out of the originals. According to their titles and some brief reading of their descriptions, I believe my classification is understandable." Harry stated shrugging, his eyes still stuck on a delicate silver instrument in his tool-box. A tool he almost dropped as Severus enveloped him in a hug.

"You just have to go and surprise me every single time, don't you?" The potions master inquired laughing.

"I'm trying." Came Harry's muffled response. "I take it you like your gift."

"You think?" The potions master asked with a wide smile. "I love it!" He turned the pages softly, his smile widening by the second; he couldn't believe some of the potions that were included in there.

"Good." Harry stated exhaling.

"No, Harry; it's perfect." Severus closed the book and placed it carefully on his desk. "Love you, kid."

"Love you too, Dad." The green eyed boy offered back. "And now, about that scroll."

"Ah, the scroll." Severus stated taking said parchment from the desk. His smile widened as he handed the old parchment to Harry. "I did some research on the book I gave you last Christmas on animagus transformation and this is what I came up with." The green eyed wizard unrolled the parchment and started reading; his eyes turned wider and wider with each word.

"Is this for real?" He asked looking at a smug potions master.

"As real as it gets."

"Multiple animagi forms?" Harry whispered, his hands tightening slightly on the scroll, a shocked smile making its way on his face, his eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Yes."

"But how?" The boy asked, almost jumping on his toes.

"It's not easy." Severus explained, taking the parchment from Harry's hands before the boy ripped it in his tightening grasp. "The first form you get is instinctual; it's connected to your magical core, it's more of an inherent expression of the power that triggers the animagus transformation that mostly depends on your character."

"But if the form you take is predestined, how can you provoke a second one?" Harry asked, not having had time to read the whole text on the parchment in his haste to make sure there actually was such a possibility.

"Once you have completed your first transformation once, what you have technically done is learn how to channel the type of magic necessary to become an animagus. The animal you turn into is not the problem at that point because you feel how it should all turn out. Your second transformation is the complete opposite of that." The potions master elaborated, with a vividness Harry wished he was free to use while teaching too.

"Opposite how?"

"It's quite simple as a concept, but much harder to execute." Severus continued. "This time you already have the ability to morph your body, you understand how it works, but mentally, you keep channelling it towards the form you know how to change into."

"So what, you just imagine of a second form and…"

"Not that simple I'm afraid." Severus interrupted him. "As I said, the first form is inherent; you just imagine your body changing and it does. You don't have to think of how your muscles or bones and arteries should be like, because your body already knows what to do; all you have to focus on is harnessing the magical ability to do it." Harry understood what Severus was saying, in a way; he had never wondered before how comes he turned into a wolf without knowing how the body of a wolf worked.

"So how is a second transformation possible?"

"Since your mind doesn't know how to do it, you just have to teach it." Severus explained with a smirk.

"And by that you mean…"

"Pick an animal and study it; its anatomy, the way it walks and interacts, how it feeds, how it breathes, everything actually." The potions master stated. "Once you know how the end result should be, your magic takes care of the rest." Harry just gapped at Severus in awe.

"And how comes I've never heard of this before?" The green eyed boy asked, not really caring, too interested in starting working on the second transformation.

"Well, I imagine the information was known at some point in time, but animagus transformation was deemed illegal during the seventeenth century -and for a century after that most of the old manuscripts on the subject ended up being destroyed- and is still closely monitored today. And needless to say, it takes a strong wizard or a great deal of help to become an animagus; a second transformation takes even more; it needs dedication and months, maybe years of studying." Severus rationalized. "Plus, I have the feeling the book I found in my family's library was one of those that were supposed to have been destroyed under the Ministry Degree three centuries ago."

"You have to hate the Ministry sometimes." Harry mumbled looking at the parchment in thought; he was already trying to come up with an animal he would want to be transformed into. "You know, I always love to fly." The boy simply explained as Severus nodded smirking.

"I'll see what I can do." He offered back and they fell into a discussion on the subject. Said discussion made time fly and Harry had to run back to the Great Hall, much to the potions master's amusement, to fetch Neville. It was a panting but very excited Harry that caught up with his friend as the later was walking down the stairs.

"I… Hi, Nev… follow me!" And he turned around to run to the dungeons again when a laughing Neville placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him.

"Why don't you try breathing first?" The boy asked, looking at his friend with a critical eye.

"Good idea." Harry admitted smirking back.

"So," Neville asked as the green eyed wizard tried to catch his breath, "any chance I'll be getting a hint as to what you got me?" The boy was toying with the purple bow on what Harry supposed was his gift. It was a small box in an expensive looking, golden wrapping paper and had definitely stirred Harry's curiosity.

"Nope." Harry offered flippantly before getting serious; he knew how afraid of Severus Neville was. "Just, trust me with this, okay?" Neville sobered up too and nodded once.

"Of course." Harry smiled once more and started walking, motioning for Neville to follow him.

"Harry?" His friend asked, looking bewildered at the destination towards which the raven haired boy was leading him. "Why are we going towards the dungeons?"

"You'll see!" The boy answered jovially. "You'll love your gift, I promise!" By the time they arrived in front of Severus's office door, Neville had gone pale and was trembling slightly.

"Harry?" He just asked, looking at his friend with terror filled eyes.

"Nev, there's nothing to fear."

"But this is professor Snape's office!" The boy complained. "What if he catches us here?"

"First of all, he's expecting us." At that, Neville turned ashen and took a step back, knees trembling.

"What?" He asked in a muffled voice.

"He is." Harry stated simply. "And most importantly, Nev, professor Snape practically raised me." At that, all trembling subsided and was promptly substituted with a bewildered look.

"He what?"

"He did." Harry assured him, glad to finally be able to freely share that information with somebody. "My parents… Well, they were always busy with Adrian and Sev is an old friend of my mother's." Severus had been vehement that no friend of Harry's would ever tremble at his sight. So, Harry had happily offered to paint him in a better light -as much as it was possible- for Neville to see. "And he's not as bad as people make him to be. He's not bad at all!" There went the understatement of the century.

"But…" Neville seemed a little bit unable to grasp the idea of a likeable Severus Snape.

"Well, as I said, he raised me." Harry reminded him with a smile. "And I turned out alright, didn't I?" Neville nodded. "Give him a chance, Nev! You'll see! He even helped with your present!"

"He did?" The boy asked, unable to help himself.

"Yeah!" Harry assured him. Neville seemed to consider what he had heard, before reaching a decision. He nodded once, mostly to himself and simply stated;

"Okay then."

"Thanks, Nev!" Harry said and winked, knocking on the door.

"And did you call him Sev?" Neville asked as an afterthought as the potions master in question opened the door.

"Good evening, Mr. Longbottom." He said softly, trying not to scare the boy off. To his merit, Neville just looked bewildered but unafraid. "And Merry Christmas." Severus added, shaking the boy from his stupor.

"Merry Christmas, professor." He wished back, as he was ushered into the office. Severus winked at Harry as he closed the door; the boy could tell he was enjoying this too. It was the closest they had in being themselves without taking down the concealment measures they had been using for the past years.

"So, ready for your present?" The potions master asked Neville who blushed a deep red.

"Yes, I guess." He murmured and Severus smiled softly before walking to his desk to pull something from one of the drawers, leaving Neville staring at his retreating form, wondering if the potions master had actually smiled or if it was some trick of the light coming from the lit fireplace in the corner of the room. Speaking of said fireplace…

"Ready, Nev?" Harry asked as Severus threw a handful of floo powder in the flames.

"We're leaving Hogwarts?" The boy asked, more surprised than panicked.

"I'm afraid your gift is one of the sort that has to be picked personally." The green eyed wizard answered cryptically.

"And where are we going?" Instead of an answer, Harry nodded towards Severus who had stepped into the green flames and clearly voiced;

"Diagon Alley!" And he was gone, enveloped in a burst of magic fire.

"What are you getting me from Diagon Alley? And are we even allowed to leave the castle?" Neville asked as Harry pushed him towards the fireplace.

"Well, technically, only Sev has clearance to use the floo network without checking with Dumbledore first." He smirked at Neville who had just stepped into the hearth. "If anyone asks, we were having a snowball fight by the lake." He extended the pot containing the floo powder to Neville who picked up a handful after a second's hesitation.

"Diagon Alley!" He called and soon found himself exiting the fireplace of the Leaky Cauldron where Severus was waiting, followed almost instantly by Harry. Severus nodded at Tom on their way out and, if the bartender found it strange that the black clad man was accompanying two boys rather than one, his many years of experience had taught him to not comment on it.

"Come on!" Harry called to Neville the moment Severus opened the entrance to the Alley. "We have some way to go!"

"But go where?" The boy asked, watching in shock as Severus and Harry exchanged a mischievous glance.

"Harry mentioned to me," the potions master began, claiming Neville's attention, "that you're using your father's old wand?" The boy's eyes went as wide and round as galleons the moment his mind processed exactly what Severus had said.

"Yes, I am." Neville answered numbly.

"Well," Harry began with a smile, "did you know that Olivander's is open on Christmas day?" The stunned look on his friend's face clearly stated that he hadn't.

"Olivander's?" Neville asked shocked. "A wand." He stated. "You're getting me a wand." He looked at his smiling friend, waiting for him to say this was just a joke. Harry just nodded.

"I believe Mr. Olivander is a wandmaker." The green eyed wizard stated. "What else could I get you there?" The party of three had to halt for a few moments as Neville hugged Harry as tight as he could, with no apparent intention of letting him go.

"Thank you, Harry!"

"What do you say you thank me after you get your wand; Mr. Olivander is waiting." Neville swiftly let him go and took a step backwards, trying to hide his blush.

"Follow me, gentlemen." Severus said, turning around to hide his smile. A few moments later, the group of three stepped in the shop and was promptly greeted by the wandmaker himself and his pale blue stare. Sensing Neville's discomfort, Harry winked at his friend and urged him forward.

"Mr. Longbottom!" The old man greeted Neville. "Professor Snape has informed me of your… rather peculiar case. I was wondering why you never came in for your first wand!" The wandmaker admitted, summoning the same silver measuring tape Harry remembered from last year. "I had, of course, thought that you had chosen a different wandmaker for your wand but never getting one of your own, young man, that I had never expected!"

"I… you see, I…" Neville began, unsure of what to say.

"I have already informed you there were personal reasons why Mr. Longbottom was using his father's wand." Severus stated, sparing the boy of an explanation. Neville looked at him in awe while Harry smiled brightly.

"Yes, yes, of course." Mr. Ollivander said absentmindedly. "Not that it matters at this point. Better late than ever, I say!" The old wizard proclaimed as he started taking Neville's measurements for his wand. "And how is your wand treating you, Mr. Potter?" Olivander asked as he started searching for suitable wands for Neville.

"It works perfectly." Harry assured him, looking at his wand fondly.

"Keeping it in pristine condition too, I see!"

"I try, sir." The wandmaker nodded as he returned with some wands for Neville; after a few tries, they were rewarded with a rain of yellow and green sparkles that flew out a cherry wood wand.

"Ah, there we are!" The wandmaker proclaimed. "Thirteen inches, cherry with a unicorn hair! Slightly flexible and strong!" He nodded happily. "A very good wand." Neville smiled happily and regarded his wand with tears in his eyes. He never stopped saying thank you as Severus paid for the wand and while they walked back to the Leaky Cauldron, even when Severus bought them butterbeers before they left. When they finally returned to Hogwarts, Neville turned to leave, promising he would talk to no one of this outing. After all, Harry reminded him, they weren't supposed to have left the castle. The boy had almost left, before he remembered he hadn't given Harry his present yet.

"It's nothing really." Neville said. "Nothing compared to what you got me, but…" Harry rolled his eyes at his friend's mumbling as he unwrapped his gift to reveal…

"A pocket watch?" Harry asked with twinkling eyes. It was indeed a pocket watch, silver with elegant bronze details on both sides. "How did you know I like them?" He asked as he hugged his friend.

"You always carry one, so I guessed…" Neville shrugged, trailing off.

"You guessed right!" The green eyed wizard assured him; "I love it, Nev!" Wishing each other Merry Christmas once more, Neville left for the owl tower to post his holiday wishes to his family while Harry stayed back to spend a little more time with Severus. After Neville left, Harry was gleeful and Severus was pleased to see the boy opening up to a friend. Their conversation later shifted back to their secondary animagus training and the most likely candidates they could pick from; the form was crucial, they both agreed.

A few hours later, Harry left Severus's office with the promise to return the next day to start working on his broomstick design, his mind filled with various types of birds of prey. He climbed the stairs to the Gryffindor Tower, just a few minutes before curfew, Fred and George welcoming him at the entrance, their faces red and excited, a testimony of the snowball fight from which they must just have returned from. Fred challenged him in a game of Exploding Snap and they did just that, as the night fell around the castle, soon joined by a happy Neville who cheered them on and laughed every time some cards exploded on the table.

It was well over ten when Percy returned to the Common Room flushed and angry when Harry realized what was exactly amiss; his brother was nowhere to be found.

"You okay, Harry?" Neville asked from the couch he was seated on. "You look pale."

"I might have a cold I fear." Harry stated without missing a bit. "But tell me, do you know where my brother is?"

"Where ours is, apparently." Fred offered looking around the room. "Hermione's gone too. And after curfew!" Fred was smirking and Harry sighed. He had turned his head once and they were gone. It was only an hour later when the two male counterparts of the golden trio returned, claiming Hermione was ill and they had taken her to the infirmary. They looked quite startled and the next morning Severus did indeed confirm that, if black fur, pointy ears and a tail were symptoms of the new flu, then yes, Hermione was ill.

"So you think they used Polyjuice after all?" Harry asked, carefully shaping the first of the ash branches Severus had brought him, sitting Indian style on the thick carpet at the potions master's office, channelling his energy into the design as to not hex something.

"They must have. But the potion isn't supposed to be used for animal transformations, which is most likely what Miss Granger did. It was probably an accident though." Severus concluded.

"Do you think that it worked for Adrian and Ron then?" A part of him was impressed; the Polyjuice was one of the most difficult potions to brew and besides stealing the ingredients, Adrian, Hermione and Ron must have gotten their hands on the recipe somehow.

"It must have; thick as they are, even Crabbe and Goyle would remember how they ended up locked in a broom closet without their shoes. And how they talked with Malfoy while I believe they were unconscious in said closet." Severus was smirking besides himself.

"Seems like my brother and co. are looking into the Heir of Slytherin too." Harry surmised, picking up a smaller scalpel like, silver tool to finish the details on the handle.

"What do you think they found out?" Harry asked.

"Probably what I did." Harry nodded once. Severus had already mentioned, a day after their talk on the snake he was hearing, that the Chamber had been opened once before, fifty years ago and that Hagrid had shouldered the blame, being expelled and having his wand snapped. Dumbledore never believed it of course, having hired Hagrid as the Gamekeeper of the school. And anyone who ever met Hagrid could testify that, his liking to dangerous creatures -which probably got him to this whole mess in the first place- put aside, he had a heart of gold.

Severus had also found out that there had been a death at the time, that almost foreced the school to close; it was still unclear as to who the girl that had died -because it was a girl- was, as Albus and Minerva who had been at school at the time had came to an agreement not to talk about it. But Hagrid was caught by a prefect called T. M. Riddle. The Headmaster always seemed to lose the twinkle in his eyes when he spoke of the incident.

"And who was that Riddle character?" Harry asked, carefully weighting the broomstick in making.

"All I could find about him was that he was a Head Boy, he got an award for capturing Hagrid and a Medal of Magical Merit." Severus pointed out. "After that he seems to have dropped out the face of the earth. Albus knows something, as usual, but he's not sharing, also as usual may I add." Harry nodded once and looked pensively at the different twigs on the floor.

"He must have been a proper git if he blamed Hagrid for the attacks." Harry stated, making Severus chuckle in agreement. "Birch or oak?"

"Excuse me?" Severus asked confused.

"Sorry, I meant for the tail of the broomstick." Harry clarified.

"Oh. No idea; does it make a difference?"

"A great one, trust me." Harry stated pondering on his choices.

"Then go with your instinct."

"Birch it is." Harry stated picking up some of the twigs in front of him.

"You're doing some progress with it." The potions master observed.

"Well, the actual design, once you get the calculations out of the way, is the easy part. It's the spellwork afterwards that's difficult." Severus just rolled his eyes; of course Harry would think broomstick design was easy. He had raised a genius. It was the first of February when Hermione left the infirmary, Madam Pomfrey having released her a day after she had stopped coughing out hairballs.

The school was as quiet as it could be with two petrified students, the mandrakes were growing perfectly and Lockhart had gone far too long without doing something stupid. But Harry didn't dwell on that much. It was a book that had captured his interest. That, in itself, wasn't unusual; it was the book that made the difference.

It wasn't something extravagant; just a simple diary, that looked too old to be his brother's. But it was Adrian who was carrying it around and he seemed to be focused on it lately. And it wasn't until the fourteenth of February, and the terrible fiasco that was Lockhart's Valentine extravaganza, that Harry paid the book any special attention. Adrian had just received a music Valentine -Harry imagined it was the Weasley twins' idea- and the commotion that was caused somehow ended with the hazel eyed Potter twin's bag torn and red ink staining all of his books. And even if Harry saw the diary getting covered in ink, there wasn't even a stain on it as Adrian picked it up.

Pushing plotting revenge on Lockhart aside, mixing up a quick potion to slip at him at any given occurrence, Harry focused his attention on the diary. But so did his brother, and since that night, he never left it from his sight, always coming to check up on it during breaks.

"It's frustrating!" Harry exclaimed one night a few days before Easter holidays. The days had gone by fast and the only exciting thing he did was chose his second form for the animagus transformation. It was a Falco Peregrinus or a Peregrine Falcon; the world's fastest bird of prey whose kind was widespread enough to not raise many eyebrows if seen. Severus had wholeheartedly agreed with the suggestion and was in the process of procuring any documents he could find on it.

"Don't you think you've been focusing far too much on that diary?" Severus asked, copying some notes down for his Wolfesbane potion; he was getting closer by the day, having almost perfected the recipe with the exception of the stabilising element he aimed for.

"So does Adrian."

"Ever considered it might actually be his diary?" The potions master deadpanned. "It would make sense if he didn't want anyone to read it."

"Adrian isn't the type that keeps a diary." Harry countered, absentmindedly adding some runes on a sigil he was designing.

"You never know, Harry." But the green eyed Wizard was proved right when, one day, after returning from Quiddich practice, Adrian found his trunk open and the diary missing. Riddle's diary, Harry had heard Ron calling it.

"I heard him loud and clear, I swear!" Harry exclaimed.

"I believe you, Harry." Severus stated, deep in thought, as the young Gryffindor paced the floor of his office.

"All this time it was there, right under my nose!" The boy exclaimed. "And now what?"

"You know what this means, right?" Severus asked solemnly, trying to form his response. "Someone didn't want whatever was written inside that diary to be known."

"And only Gryffindors know the passwords to the Common Room."

"Exactly." The potions master agreed. Things had just become that much more confusing.


	31. The Minister, The Secret Chamber And Some Not-So-Little Spiders

It was just before the last Quidditch game of the year when things went from complicated to almost desperate. Harry was just about to get out on the field when Professor McGonagall stopped the team from leaving the changing rooms. Hermione and a Ravenclaw Prefect had been petrtified, just outside the library. Lily and James did their best to calm down Adrian who looked ready to burst while Harry was more interested to the fact that Hermione had been found with a mirror in her hand.

"I'm an idiot." Severus stated as Harry mentioned the mirror.

"I seriously disagree." The boy countered.

"No, I am; a twelve year old student got it before I did."

"Got what?"

"What the snake is." Severus explained, rubbing his eyes.

"You know what the snake is?"

"It's a basilisk, Harry. A bloody basilisk!" Severus exclaimed; the reaction that elicited from Harry was just what he expected; the boy paled and slipped slowly on his chair.

"But basilisk's look doesn't petrify, it… of course." Harry trailed off thinking back to the scenes of the crime; the pool of water on the floor, Colin's camera, Hermione's mirror and even Nearly Headless Nick. "Nobody looked straight at the basilisk, did they? I mean Nick did, but he was dead already."

"My thoughts exactly. And then the roosters being slaughtered… How did I miss this?" The potions master asked, clearly angry with himself.

"Because when one hears galloping he thinks of horses, not thestrals." Harry stated tiredly. "We knew a snake was petrifying students, so we looked for a snake that could petrify students, not one that could  _possibly_  but highly unlikely do it. And I thought that basilisks were extinct."

"They're supposed to be." Severus agreed.

"Remind me to share that information with the petrified victims once they wake up." Severus smirked slightly.

"I will not omit to do just that." The potions master sat in the corner of his desk, looking at Harry sceptically. "One thing I don't get."

"What?"

"The basilisks are huge snakes; how could one roam around the castle?" Severus wondered. "Someone must have seen."

"I don't know." Harry answered thoughtfully. He revised the incidents when he had heard the voice in his head. "Well I  _did_  hear it talking from inside the walls. That's why I thought it was a ghost in the first place." Severus's left eye twitched. "What?"

"I'm never  _ever_  taking a shower in this castle again." The potions master stated decisively, already planning making a trip back to Silbreith at least once a day.

"Why?" Harry asked and then the impact of Severus's declaration hit him. "The pipes? You think the basilisk is moving through the pipes?" The boy shuddered at the thought; suddenly, the warm showers he had taken all through winter made him shiver in disgust.

"Where else?" Severus asked trying to forget he had just showered only a few hours ago. Finding out what the snake seemed to do nothing to alleviate the situation. A few weeks after Hermione was petrified, things seemed gloomier than ever. The only cheery person around was Lockhart, who was convinced -and was trying to convince everybody else too- that he was the reason the attacks had stopped. From what Harry had noticed Ron and his brother were sending confused looks at Harry, affirming his suspicions that the diary actually contained information that pointed to Hagrid being the one who had unleashed the Slytherin monster all those years ago.

A silly notion, Harry thought, and his brother seemed to share his opinion; he only appeared hesitant to ask Hagrid about the subject rather than feeling the giant was a threat. Harry felt it was better that way; the less his brother knew of the subject the further away he would stay from danger. But on that subject, Adrian had a different opinion completely; it was only a few nights after he had made that thought that the green eyed wizard followed his twin and Ron as they headed towards Hagrid's hut. Well, to be accurate, he rather followed their general direction flying in the night sky with his Nimbus as they were under the invisibility cloak; he didn't have time to place a tracing spell on his brother -and even if he did chances were that he was by now trained enough to recognise it- but he had heard they would be heading there.

So he watched from above as Hagrid opened the door to welcome them and the two boys entered his home. Even  _his_  hearing wasn't good enough to listen to what was being said inside but he dared not approach more. And it was a good thing he didn't, as the light of a lamp caught his attention a few moments later. Someone was coming from the castle and heading towards Hagrid's hut.

Harry flattened himself on his broom and hid behind the hut, parallel to the roof, not even daring to touch the twigs it was made of. He did however dare to steer just a little to the left to observe the two forms approaching; he couldn't help but indulge to his curiosity for the flowing silver hair and the long beard could only belong to the Headmaster. And possibly Merlin, Harry thought, but the chances of him being around were slim to say the least.

So, if it really was the Headmaster, who was the man he was accompanying? He was much shorter than Dumbledore and plump, dressed in intricate robes in an atrocious mustard colour, topped with a bowler hat. Harry's heart picked up in rhythm; what was Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic and moron extraordinaire, doing at Hogwarts? He moved closer to the roof as Dumbledore approached and knocked the door; he could hear a faint scuffling sound from inside the house, indicating that Adrian and Ron were trying to hide, before Hagrid opened the door. Right when Harry was debating whether he should approach a window to try and listen to what was being said when a third form, a man with a long, black travelling cape and silvery blond hair moved towards the hut too.

Lucius Malfoy? The hairs in the back of Harry's neck stood up and his shudder had nothing to do with the chilly wind. Lucius Malfoy was never good news and Mr. Weasley's split lip last summer stood testimony to that. He did do  _some_  good however as he left the door open. And once Harry could hear what they were saying, he wished he hadn't. Hagrid was being arrested and Dumbledore ousted from the school. We're doomed, he thought with utter pessimism.

"Oh, now, see here, Lucius…" Fudge's trembling voice sounded from the open door. The Minister had at least realized that he would be unable to deal with whatever was happening without Dumbledore in the school. "Dumbledore suspended -no, no- last thing we want right now…" But he was still ignorant to Malfoy's intentions it seemed. Well, one out of two was a score good enough for him. It didn't take long to have him convinced though, as Malfoy slithered his way gracefully around the Minister's objections; how that man was ever elected was beyond the comprehension of the green eyed wizard. Apparently, the assurance he got from Malfoy that all twelve governors had agreed to suspend the Headmaster was enough.

"An' how many did yeh have ter threaten an' blackmail before they agreed, Malfoy, eh?" Hagrid hollered, Harry -even as he winced at his booming voice- mentally applauding him.

"Dear, dear, you know, that temper of yours will lead you into trouble one of these days, Hagrid," Mr. Malfoy offered sarcastically. "I would advise you not to shout at the Azkaban guards like that. They won't like it at all." Harry was in the point of hexing the man. There was little to do but scream where Dementors were involved and everybody in attendance you that.

"Yeh can't take Dumbledore!" Yelled Hagrid. A soft cry came from Fang, but Malfoy must have stood unfazed. "Take him away, an' the Muggleborns won' stand a chance! There'll be killin' next!"

"Calm yourself, Hagrid," said Dumbledore in a sharp tone, before addressing Lucius Malfoy. "If the governors want my removal, Lucius, I shall of course step aside…"

"But…" stuttered Fudge, hopeless when it came to something else save strutting his title around. Typical, Harry thought; the man had once wanted to condemn Severus without a trial and he didn't even have the nerve to act in front of a true Death Eater.

" _No_!" growled Hagrid. Harry was about to voice his own objection if things continued this way. Severus too would have a field day out of this for sure.

"However," said Dumbledore, speaking very slowly and clearly so that none of them could miss a word, "you will find that I will only  _truly_ have left this school when none here are loyal to me. You will also find that help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it." What was that for, Harry wondered. Could Dumbledore know Adrian and Ron were in the room with him? Was he about to be found out too? Then he glanced at the ring still on his thumb; having the ability to cover his magical trace had never felt so good.

"Admirable sentiments," Malfoy's voice sounded, soft as silk once again. "We shall all miss your, er, highly individual way of running things, Albus, and only hope that your successor will manage to prevent any, ah,  _ki_ _ll_ _in_ _g_ _s._ " Then he left the cabin, bowing as Albus stepped out. Both Hagrid and Fudge were still inside and Harry could clearly hear the half-giant state;

"If anyone wanted ter find out some  _stuff_ _,_ all they'd have ter do would be ter follow the  _spiders_ _._ That'd lead 'em right! That's all I'm sayin'." Follow the spiders? What kind of an advice was that? While it was true that spiders in general feared the basilisk, Hagrid couldn't know what the monster was. And how could the spiders help in any case?

Not sitting around to ponder on the fact, Harry flew all the way round the school to avoid being seen before he entered the main hall cautiously. Instead of climbing the Grand Staircase, he made a beeline for Severus's office; he has gauged the potions master reaction perfectly this time; Severus was furious, his hand gripping his wand ominously. Something told Harry that, once he left the office, Severus was going to pull out his broadsword and start smashing things around the room. And in truth, the black clad professor did just that.

The days that followed were predictably gloomy. Draco was prancing around the school and even went as far as to proclaim he would ask his father to support Severus for the Headmaster's position as Professor McGonagall -who was the Deputy Headmistress- wasn't going to last. Severus accepted his comment with a tight lipped smirk that, to those who knew him well -meaning Harry- could easily be translated to  _'I would hit you in the head with a cauldron but that would blow my cover and possibly cost me my job'_.

Neville exchanged an exasperated look with Harry over his almost completed potion; he was doing much better in potions now under Harry's tutoring and having his fear of Severus abating. The potions master had been less cautious with the boy now that he was in turn less afraid the Gryffindor would cause a cauldron to explode and that meant he had to hover less around him during classes. Neville, showing the intuition Harry was slowly recognising in him, had picked up on the reason why Severus had hovered so much in the past.

Then he had gone and surprised Harry by not commenting on it and simply taking everything in with a stride, simply adjusting his views and not sticking to prejudices. The green eyed wizard found himself oddly proud with his friend, just as he once had been with his brother when Adrian had first started mastering his basic defence charms. It had been years since then and Harry had never expected to feel that companionship again; friends are the family you choose, a small voice, oddly sounding like Nicholas, echoed in his mind and the boy had smiled and adjusted his views in turn. Maybe there was some truth in that saying.

Lockhart was the second exception to the general rule and was as annoying as ever, clearly stating he had predicted Hagrid was the culprit all along and badmouthing him every chance he got. Unable to help himself, Harry slipped that little potion he and Severus had come up with a few months ago, specifically for such an occasion. And it was a general agreement that Lockhart did look especially smashing that day when, while eating dinner the middle of the Great Hall, he took a sip of his drink and ended up with lime green hair and a bad case of acne. Severus stole a glance towards Harry, ducked his head slightly and tried to drawn his laughter in his glass of water. The whole Great Hall burst out laughing, even the staff being unable to hold back their mirth. Flitwick almost fell of his chair as he tried to stop his laughing fit by looking everywhere but at Lockhart and Professor McGonagall was chortling openly.

"You did it." Adrian said, his eyes wide in awe as he stared at his brother, the rest of the Gryffindors at the table following his example, most looking at Harry like they had never seen him before. "You really did it!"

"I said I would." Harry stated, calmly sipping from his pumpkin juice.

"Wicked!" Ron exclaimed, unable to take his eyes off of Lockhart who had just realized what had happened and had let out a terrified -and quite shrill- shriek.

"A wild card indeed." Fred muttered.

"We tip our hats to you, sir." George added while Lockhart sprinted towards the door amidst roaring laughter. Neville, who had been the only one informed beforehand so that he would know where to look, had all but fallen on the floor, holding his sides with laughter. Harry should have known the day wouldn't continue in such a happy note.

While they were in Herbology -and after Ernie McMillan, one of the Hufflepuffs that were most certain Adrian was Slytherin's heir had apologised profusely for his comportment during the past fee months- Adrian and Ron finally caught sight of a line of spiders, soldiering on towards the Forbidden Forest. Adrian pointed them to an ashen faced Ron and started whispering about spiders and how they had to follow them, causing Ernie to stare at them confused and Harry almost to cut the Abyssinian Shrivelfig he was tending in half in shock the very moment the Forbidden Forest was mentioned, the plant only saved by a swift intervention by Neville. He could swear his right eye was twitching as he followed them to the school; now he had to watch and make sure they wouldn't wonder off in the forest too. Lovely.

"What's the matter, Harry?" Neville asked over dinner, having observed his friend getting more and more pensive by the minute.

"I have a feeling my brother's going to do something extremely stupid, Nev." Harry whispered back, making his friend regard him sceptically.

"Do I sense a pattern?" The boy asked, making his green eyed friend smile a little.

"You guessed it." Harry admitted, thinking he had to reach Severus as fast as it was humanly possible.

"They want to do  _what_?" Severus asked blankly when Harry informed him of the conversation he had overheard.

"I'd rather not repeat it. I'm still hoping they're pranking me or something."

"We should report them." Severus pondered and then retracted his statement. "But what would we say; Professor McGonagall, two of your students will run off to the Forbidden Forest one of these nights but we can't tell you why or how we know it?"

"That didn't sound like it would go very well." Harry admitted. "Well, I can always watch them and call you when they try to leave…"

"I have my rounds with Flitwick every night up to four." The potions master reminded him tiredly. "Minerva thought that even the teachers wouldn't be safe patrolling the castle alone with Dumbledore gone." Harry sighed deeply.

"So what do we do? Leave them to run off to a forest filled with Merlin knows what creatures while we sit back and do nothing?" The boy asked frustrated. "No! I'm following them on my broom when they leave." Severus paled slightly; he knew something like this was coming.

"Harry, the Forbidden Forest is…"

"Not safe?" The green eyed wizard asked. "Of course it's not! That's why I'm not leaving Adrian and Ron go in there alone. Ron's wand doesn't even work properly for crying out loud!"

"Listen, Harry…"

"I'll be on my broom the whole time and I'll have my wand. I've been training for this Sev and if things get ugly, I'll just turn into a wolf and run." It wasn't that Harry didn't make sense, Severus thought. And it would be hypocritical to have him training for all these years and forbid him to do what he was supposed to be training for when the need arose. Still, the potions master knew he would be having a panic attack knowing his son was out there without him.

"I don't like it." He finally stated.

"Neither do I." Harry agreed. "But I see no other way around it."

"And maybe they won't go through with it anyway." Severus reasoned, trying to calm his nerves. Harry nodded in agreement, thinking that was highly unlikely. The potions master thought so too.

"Thank you, Dad." Harry simply said, hugging Severus, before turning around and leaving for the Gryffindor tower before curfew. As expected, Adrian and Ron not only went through with their plan, but they did so on the very same night. Barely two hours after Harry had declared he would follow his brother to the forest he found himself doing just that, flying above the two boys leaving towards Hagrid's hut. They had the cloak on again this time but Harry guessed they wouldn't want to keep it while in the forest and the best place to leave it would be at Hagrid's. And truly, fifteen minutes later, the door of the Gamekeeper's house was opened and a few moments later than that the two young wizards and Fang, Hagrid's boarhound, left the safety of the house and headed for the forest. Harry touched his wand, reassuring himself that it was still in its holster and flew in right after them.

Right when he was wondering how on earth was he going to follow them when Adrian cast a  _Lumos_  with his wand, effectively lighting the path for both of them. The first half an hour passed relatively calmly considering the situation and the fact that, to Harry's fright, the two boys and the dog had strayed from the forest path they were following. A startled yelp from Ron almost made him dive in but it was only a false alarm; they had apparently found Mr. Weasley's Ford Anglia they had crashed landed on the Whomping Willow at the beginning of term; so far, so good, Harry thought. Once again, it was not to last; the green eyed boy heard them first before he saw them. Large black spiders were circling the two wizards beneath him and, before he even managed to make a sound, they had grabbed Adrian, Ron and Fang and were taking them deeper into the forest.

Harry's heart was beating like crazy as he followed the spiders deeper into the forest, the cluttering noises their pinchers made making that part of his task easy. He didn't dare to cast a spell lest he hit his brother or Ron in the process but was slowly losing his patience when the spiders stopped in front of some short of structure that appeared like a white dome, shinning silver under the moonlight and perched in a clearing of the forest. The spiders let the two boys, mercifully unharmed if a little ruffled, on the forest floor. And just when Harry was thinking of the best way to get them out of there, the spiders started speaking, calling one single word over and over again.

" _Aragog! Aragog!_ " Talking spiders? Harry clenched his eyes tight; what were acromandulas doing in Britain? The same thing that a basilisk did, a voice in his head reminded him. And right on time, Aragog, a greying spider the size of a small elephant, made its appearance through the webs the dome was made off. He ordered Adrian and Ron to be eaten for waking him up but the hazel eyed Potter twin exclaimed they were friends of Hagrid, causing the head acromandula to retract his order.

And so, Harry sat on his broom, listening to how the Chamber had been opened again in the past and how, even if Hagrid had indeed hid him in the castle, he was not the monster. Quite predictably, he denied giving them the name of Slytherin's monster since acromandulas had long decided to never even pronounce the word basilisk. What was new however was one single strand of information; the girl who had died while the Chamber was opened for the first time was killed in a bathroom. Harry's mind made the connection in a few moments; supposing the girl had never truly left the school -given how she died- there was only one ghost that it could be. Harry had heard tales of the Moaning Myrtle and his brother had even mentioned her a few times during the year in retrospect making Harry realize that it must have been her bathroom where the three made the Polyjuice potion. Maybe now he finally had a lead.

All thoughts of the Chamber however were pushed violently from his mind as Aragog gave one more order when Adrian and Ron tried to flee. Apparently, his decision to keep his sons and daughters from eating Hagrid did not extend to his friends.

"But I can not refuse them fresh meat when it walks so willingly in our nest," were his exact words. Harry tightened his grip on his wand as Adrian turned to look at the wall of great spiders that had gathered behind them. "Goodbye friend of Hagrid." Unexpectedly, a bright beam of light lit up the clearing, as Mr. Weasley's car appeared, its doors opening, Adrian, Ron and Fang jumping inside as it drove them away, leaving hit spiders at its wake. Harry dived in and followed them zig-zaging through the trees. The spiders seemed to catch up on them, so the green eyed wizard pulled out his wand and casted the strongest curses and spells he could come up with. Hagrid would find the acromandula population of the forest positively diminished once he returned but Harry couldn't care less.

The odd convoy went on like that for a few long-winded minutes; the car was bumping his way through the spiders and Harry was tearing the ones that tried to catch up from the rear to pieces. The acromandulas were confused as to where the spell were coming from but had no time to ponder on the matter as, the moment they stopped, they were hit. Finally, the car made it out of the forest and threw his passengers to the ground, before turning away and disappearing -in an even worse condition than before- amongst the thick trees. The two startled boys on the ground looked at each other for a brief moment and the followed a terrified Fang inside Hagrid's hut.

All the while, Harry was on his broom, right just over the tree line, panting like he had ran the marathon, his hands trembling from the adrenaline rush. Not giving it too much thought, he flew straight towards the school, entering from the astronomy tower that was much closer to the Gryffindor Common Room than the main hall. The Fat Lady looked at him disgruntled as he spoke the password but Harry barely spared her a look; he knew she was bound by magic not to tell on him, or else the Weasley twins -and the Marauders before them- would have been in serious trouble ages ago.

Harry placed his broom under his bed silently and changed into his pyjamas in a flurry of movements. He was still out of breath when he climbed into bed and the farthest away from sleep possible when his brother and Ron returned to the dormitory. It only took his brother half an hour to reach to the same conclusion as he had about Moaning Myrtle and, in the three hours long conversation that followed, his belief that they had prepared the Polyjuice potion in her bathroom was indeed confirmed.

It was only a few hours before daybreak that Harry managed to sleep. He spent all his breakfast sending glares towards his brother who was oblivious to anything but his deep conversation with Ron. Professor McGonagall, during the Transfiguration lesson of the day, informed them the exams were to start at one week time; it was the first time that Harry didn't even consider studying for them; he had to tell Severus what had happened. Not that he managed to even approach him that day. First came the announcement that the mandrakes were ready and that those petrified would be awakened the next day. Then came Ginny; Harry had noticed she was getting paler and paler as the year went by, but every time he thought of asking her what had happened, his brother managed to get involved in something stupidly dangerous and distract him. But she finally seemed ready to talk about it.

She had sat next to Ron and seemed to try to find the exact words to form what she wanted to say. Three pairs of eyes looked at her expectedly.

" _What?_ " Ron asked his sister in an impatient tone, clearly getting frustrated that she wouldn't speak. Noticing her pale face and the dark circles under her eyes, Harry's gaze softened as he tried to reassure her.

"Come on, Ginny; Ron's your brother and you've known Adrian and I almost your whole life. You can talk to us." Ginny's eyes seemed to light up slightly with that statement and she nodded, opening her mouth to speak. Percy had to intervene that very second of course, making Ginny run away and hastily informing them that what Ginny had to tell them was a personal of his and had nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets. Harry, who had seen the fear in her eyes, dearly doubted that, but had no choice but to wait till he saw Ginny again so he could ask her himself.

His attention however was soon after claimed again by his brother and Ron who, easily tricking Lockhart into leaving them unattended, tried to sneak out to Myrtle's bathroom. Harry, realizing he wouldn't be missed in History of Magic, waited till they were out of sight before following them; he saw how they tricked Professor McGonagall into believing they were only visiting Hermione -quick thinking there, he mentally commended his brother- and hid behind a tapestry as the Transfiguration teacher passed him by blowing her nose.

He followed the two wizards into the infirmary -now they were forced to stop by- and waited patiently hidden behind a statue while they were inside. They exited the hospital wing unbelievably excited for someone who was talking to a petrified victim and Harry soon found out why; Hermione had indeed figured out what the monster was and had apparently hid her notes -or a page from a book, Harry could hardly tell from the distance he was following them- on her person; it was a testimony to his bad luck, he thought, how Adrian would find it today.

He felt calmer for a while as the two boys seemed adamant on going to Professor McGonagall with the information. His peace of mind was abruptly shattered when the Transfiguration professor's voice sounded magically enhanced around the school, asking the students to return to their House Common Rooms and the teachers to the staffroom. To his dread, Adrian and Ron had already entered the staffroom and had apparently hid in a cloak closet on the left side of the room. Harry barely managed to close the door of a small supply closet by the room's entrance when the teachers started to arrive. Not quite believing how he found himself in such a situation again, he stood still and listened, peeking through the crack between the two doors of the closet. Some looked startled and scared and some confused, only Severus's face being the perfect blank mask. And they were all waiting for professor McGonagall.

"It has happened," she told the silent staffroom. "A student has been taken by the monster. Right into the Chamber itself." Professor Flitwick let out a squeal, falling backwards at his chair. Professor Sprout clapped her hands over her mouth. Severus, loosing his stony façade for only a second, gripped the back of a chair very hard and said,

"How can you be sure?"

"The Heir of Slytherin," said Professor McGonagall, who was very white and trembling, "left another message. Right underneath the first one. 'Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever.' " Professor Flitwick burst into tears, sobbs racking his small body.

"Who is it?" said Madam Hooch, who had sunk, weak-kneed, into a chair. "Which student?"

"Ginny Weasley," said Professor McGonagall. Harry couldn't even dare to imagine how Ron felt right then. "We shall have to send all the students home tomorrow," said Professor McGonagall. "This is the end of Hogwarts. Dumbledore always said . . ." The staffroom door banged open again. For one wild moment, Harry was sure it would be Dumbledore. But it was Lockhart, and he was beaming. Harry had never wanted to hex him more.

"So sorry -dozed off- what have I missed?" He didn't seem to notice that the other teachers were looking at him with something remarkably like hatred. Severus stepped forward and Harry recognised the look in his eyes; it was the same one he had every time he was training with his broadsword.

"Just the man," he said coldly. "The very man. A girl has been snatched by the monster, Lockhart. Taken into the Chamber of Secrets itself. Your moment has come at last." Lockhart blanched, taking a step backwards as if he had been hit by an invisible spell.

"That's right, Gilderoy," chipped in Professor Sprout, looking angrier than Harry had ever imagined the docile woman could be. "Weren't you saying just last night that you've known all along where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is?"

"I… well, I…" sputtered Lockhart.

"Yes, didn't you tell me you were sure you knew what was inside it?" piped up Professor Flitwick.

"D-did I? I don't recall…"

"I certainly remember you saying you were sorry you hadn't had a crack at the monster before Hagrid was arrested," Severus continued his onslaught as Harry mentally applauded. "Didn't you say that the whole affair had been bungled, and that you should have been given a free rein from the first?" Lockhart stared around at his stony-faced colleagues.

"I… I really never… you may have misunderstood…"

"We'll leave it to you, then, Gilderoy," said Professor McGonagall. "Tonight will be an excellent time to do it. We'll make sure everyone's out of your way. You'll be able to tackle the monster all by yourself. A free rein at last." Lockhart gazed desperately around him, but nobody came to the rescue. He didn't look remotely handsome anymore. His lip was trembling, and in the absence of his usually toothy grin, he looked weak-chinned and feeble.

"V-very well," he said. "I'll… I'll be in my office, getting… getting ready." And he left the room.

"Right," said Professor McGonagall, whose nostrils were flared, "that's got him out from under our feet. The Heads of Houses should go and inform their students what has happened. Tell them the Hogwarts Express will take them home first thing tomorrow. Will the rest of you please make sure no students have been left outside their dormitories." The teachers rose and left, one by one. Harry waited for his brother and Ron to leave first, Adrian supporting his startled friend. Harry ran to make it to the Common Room before them his mind on overdrive; he should have listened to his instincts; Ginny really did know something about the Chamber and her involvement was now costing her.

The afternoon passed excruciatingly slowly, the usually loud Weasley family was only a shadow of its former self and Harry felt Ginny's presence missing more than ever. He knew his brother wasn't going to stand doing nothing and the same applied to Ron. And truly, not caring they weren't alone in the Common Room, they stood up and left the rest of the Gryffindors too absorbed in their thoughts to bother with them, going to meet with Lockhart and tell him all that they knew. Harry ran behind them, after he grabbed the invisibility cloak; it was a stupid move really, following them blindly, but his brother could be in danger if he left them alone. So he was there when Adrian pushed the door to Lockhart's room open and he was just as enraged as his brother when he found out the Defence teacher was running away. Later on, he would wonder why did he ever think he would act differently.

Adrian and Ron marched a disarmed Lockhart to Myrtle's bathroom at wandpoint, ignoring his protests and complains. They found Moaning Myrtle who was only too glad to assist them when they asked her about how she had died. She spoke of a strange language she had heard as she was hiding in the toilet that Harry immediately realized was Parseltongue. She then said she went to tell the strangers to go away since one of them at least was a boy and then, after seeing two bright yellow eyes by a sink she pointed out at them, she died. Adrian approached the sink, Harry following him close. There was a snake carved at the base and Myrtle stated that that tap never worked.

Adrian and Ron tried everything to make the entrance appear, not succeeding in the least; Harry was certain by now that only a Parselmouth could open the Chamber. Testing his theory with everybody there however would be impossible.

"Why won't it open?" Ron exclaimed not noticing Lockhart was stepping backwards towards the door.

"I have no idea." Adrian answered looking intently at the carved snake. Lockhart was closer to the exit.

"Maybe you're doing it all wrong…" Myrtle tried to point out, earning a nasty glare from Ron who, not so politely, told her to back off. Myrtle wailed and dived into her toilet, leaving the bathroom.

"At least she's got out of out hair." Ron muttered.

"Open you stupid Chamber!" Adrian exclaimed kicking the sink. Lockhart turned around and ran out the bathroom.

"He's running away!" Ron exclaimed, chasing the blond professor, Adrian swiftly stepping behind him wand in hand. Harry wasted no time; he stepped closer to the sink and touched the carved snake contemplatively; he breathed in once deeply. It was worth a shot he imagined and there was no time to lose. He stood up and said,

" _Open!_ " It was a simple command, yet it was not spoken in English; instead, a whistling sound left his lips as he spoke in the language of snakes. The tap glowed a bright white light and then started moving with a rumbling sound, shifting and turning until a dark opening in the floor -a pipe large enough for one man to slip down- made its appearance. A flash back to last year and a dark trapdoor hit the green eyed boy and he took a step back. He had to go get Severus immediately. But it was not to be.

"Adrian!" Ron's voice sounded shocked from the entrance. "Come and see! And bring the git with you!" Harry sidestepped quietly from his place next to the sink, allowing Ron and Adrian, who had his wand pointed at Lockhart again -the blond professor had earned a split lip for his efforts to escape- to approach.

"The entrance." Adrian muttered, causing Lockhart to lose all remaining blood from his face. "But how?" The two friends looked at each other as Harry began shifting his weight from one leg to the other; of course something like that could happen. And damn Lockhart who wasn't even good at running away from to second year Hogwarts students!

"Well…" Ron said his eyes sparkling up as if he had had a revelation. "You did order it to open before the git made a run for it." He stated and Harry blessed his good luck for once, since Adrian had indeed done that. Adrian nodded, Ron's explanation sounding good at that moment.

"Now what?" Adrian asked.

"Ginny's down there mate." Ron stated as if that explained everything. And as far as Harry was concerned, it did.

"I'm going down there," Adrian said. Harry was ready to follow again; he couldn't not go, not now they had found the entrance to the Chamber, not if there was even the faintest, slimmest, wildest chance that Ginny might be alive.

"Me too," said Ron. There was a pause.

"Well, you hardly seem to need me," said Lockhart, with a shadow of his old smile. "I'll just…" He put his hand on the door knob, but Ron and Adrian both pointed their wands at him.

"You can go first," Ron snarled. White-faced and wandless, Lockhart approached the opening.

"Boys," he said, his voice feeble. "Boys, what good will it do?" Harry jabbed him in the back with his wand. Lockhart slid his legs into the pipe. "I really don't think…" he started to say, but Ron gave him a push, and he slid out of sight. They waited for him to fall all the way down and only then, when he reached the bottom with a loud thud and complaining, did the two wizards get ready to jump. Harry simply looked at the pipe blankly his heart thumping fast in his chest; Ginny was down there and soon his brother would be too. And then there was the basilisk. He wasn't going to enjoy this.

 


	32. The Heir Of Slytherin

Ron jumped in first and Adrian soon followed; Harry cast a silencing spell on himself and followed them too; the cloak might gift him with invisibility, but if the loud thumbing sound Lockhart had made going down was any indication, it wouldn't be enough. He held the cloak tight between his knees so it would stay in place as he slid down and jumped down the pipe. He was sliding, falling down at a dizzying speed, turning abruptly again and again but he didn't dare to scream even with the silencing spell; a loud scream would pierce right through it easily. He chose instead to concentrate on not landing on his face -as Lockhart had probably done- or on his brother if he could help it.

After what seemed like hours he landed, falling on his knees. The chamber he found himself into was humid and resembled a cave if anything else. Harry guessed they were somewhere under the lake, miles beneath the school. Not wanting to consider the great mass of ground -and the cold body of water- that separated him from the surface, Harry stood up and looked at the floor of what seemed to be a dark tunnel stretching forever; it was littered with the remains of thousands of rodents, the skull of one Ron had just stepped on.

He followed them silently, looking around and on the floor for any type of movement, ready to duck his head the moment he caught the slightest inkling. But the only thing that disturbed the silence was their footsteps and the occasional little yelps from Lockhart. Harry was walking ahead of the group, ready to hex whatever dared to appear, Adrian trailing behind and finally Ron marching Lockhart forward. It was the redhead that spoke first.

"Adrian… there's something up there…" said Ron hoarsely, grabbing Adrian's shoulder. Harry had seen it to and had almost believed it was the snake and tried to curse it when he realized it wasn't moving; it was an empty snake's shirt and from what the green eyed wizard could tell, the snake that had shed it must have been over twenty feet long. "Blimey." Ron exclaimed. Harry agreed completely. A thudding sound and bones on the floor crunching as they broke caught his attention; Gilderoy Lockhart's legs had given way. "Get up!" The redhead ordered, pointing his wand at the fallen Defence teacher. Lockhart got to his feet; then, he dived at Ron, knocking him to the ground. Adrian jumped forward, but too late; Lockhart was straightening up, panting, Ron's wand in his hand and a gleaming smile back on his face. He wouldn't do something that stupid, Harry thought frozen still; even a moron such as Lockhart would understand that obliviating someone in a dark, half crumbling tunnel with a broken wand that was notorious for exploding was dangerous.

"The adventure ends here, boys!" he said. But apparently he would; Harry tried to move around Adrian -who was standing in his way- to get a clean shot at Lockhart. "I shall take a bit of this skin back up to the school, tell them I was too late to save the girl, and that you two  _tragically_ lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body; say good-bye to your memories!" He raised Ron's spellotaped wand high over his head and yelled, " _Obliviate_!" The wand exploded with the force of a small bomb. Harry flung his arms over his head and ran, slipping over the coils of snake skin, out of the way of great chunks of tunnel ceiling that were thundering to the floor. Next moment, he was standing further down in the tunnel, his back against the wall, gazing at a solid wall of broken rock. He had been trapped in one side with his brother while Ron and Lockhart remained on the other.

"Ron!" Adrian shouted panicking. "Are you okay? Ron!"

"I'm here!" Came Ron's muffled voice from behind the rockfall. "I'm okay… this git's not, though… he got blasted by the wand…" Served him right, Harry thought. And judging from the dull 'Ow!' that followed Ron's statement, said git must have been kicked viciously in the shins. He deserved that too, the green eyed wizard decided. Harry turned at the other side of the tunnel; they were wasting time he realized; sparing one last glance at his brother, who was still trying to communicate with Ron, he moved ahead getting a head start from Adrian. He moved swiftly down the tunnel, the distant sound of stones shifting -probably Ron trying to get through- accompanying him soon joined by a pair of footsteps belonging to his brother.

Then Harry saw it; a solid wall ahead on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds. This time he didn't hesitate; he just hoped the silencing spell he had casted on himself would be enough to mask the soft whistling of Parseltongue as he ordered;

" _Open!_ " The wall cracked in half evenly, the serpents making way for a door to open, just at the moment Adrian appeared around the corner; looking once at his pale and trembling brother, Harry gathered is wits and entered the Chamber. He tried to take in his surroundings; the chamber was very long and the ceiling was unbelievably tall, especially in contrast to the tunnel before. Serpents rose on each side of the room instead of columns, supporting a ceiling lost in darkness, the faint glow coming from lit torches on the walls giving the chamber an eerie green colour.

There was water on the floor, the air was humid and every step his brother took echoed on the walls; looking towards the other side of the room, his gaze fell and locked on a statue as tall as the Chamber itself. Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above; it was ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor; the green eyed wizard had seen enough statues of the man in various ages to recognize Salazar Slytherin. And between the feet of his statue, facedown, lay a small, black-robed figure with flaming-red hair; he gasped and started running towards the prone form. Adrian had seen her too.

"Ginny!" He screamed and followed his brother's example. The hazel eyed twin dropped his wand as he kneeled next to Ginny Weasley. Harry was observing her, feeling a sudden wave of dizziness claim him as Adrian tried to shake her awake. Ginny was extremely pale, the freckles on her face showing painfully clear against her white skin, her hair being the only thing that still had colour on her. Her lips were purple and her hands were cold and Harry's heart constricted painfully as he feared for the worst.

"She won't wake," said a soft voice. Harry jumped up swiftly and spun around, his wand pointing at the newcomer from behind his cloak. It was a tall black-haired boy, leaning carelessly against the nearest pillar; his features were handsome, if somewhat cold, and he was oddly blurred around the edges. Harry's breath caught on his throat; that boy reminded him of someone. But whom?

"Tom?" Adrian asked from where he stood next to Ginny and Harry turned to look at his brother confused; how did he know the boy? "Tom Riddle?" Harry's eyes widened as he looked at the boy again, adrenaline kicking in; Riddle was the prefect that had caught Hagrid for unleashing Slytherin's monster fifty years ago. Harry could see the prefect's badge and the Slytherin colours of his robes. Riddle had graduated almost fifty years ago too, so now he would be middle aged, if he were still alive. But the boy standing in the Chamber looked no older than sixteen. Connections started forming inside his mind as Tom moved towards his brother, a hungry look on his face.

Riddle was a Slytherin. Riddle was there when the Chamber of Secrets was first opened and it was only after  _he_  designated somebody as the heir that the attacks stopped. Riddle was here now looking as he had in school, standing in a secret camber nobody knew of, one only someone being a Parseltongue, or having the help of one, could enter. And a familiar black diary lay open next to the unconscious form of Ginny Weasley. Harry gripped his wand tighter, his heard doing summersaults inside his chest; this wasn't good. Not good at all.

"What do you mean she won't wake?" Adrian asked angrily. "She's not… She's not?"

"She's alive. But only just." Riddle stated uninterested.

"Are you a ghost?" Adrian asked. Harry whished it was so simple and waited for Riddle's answer anxiously; because he definitely wasn't a ghost. But what was he?

"A memory." Riddle stated calmly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years." He pointed at the diary as Harry stared at him confused; how could one keep a living memory locked inside an inanimate object? Adrian asked Riddle to help him with Ginny and Harry looked at his brother for a second as he tried to lift the girl from the floor. He immediately turned his gaze towards Riddle and almost gasped in surprise; he had somehow managed to grab hold of Adrian's discarded wand. And what was his brother thinking dropping his wand in the room that probably contained a basilisk?

Not that it would do him much good, Harry thought suddenly his head spinning as he remembered one crucial detail about the basilisks; their skin was just as hard as a dragon's and only large scale spells could have an effect on it. And after last year's events, Harry had decided to lay back on those. His heartbeat doubled up in speed as he realized his mistake. He could faintly hear Riddle not giving Adrian his wand back and decided to focus on one thing at a time; Riddle first, possibly suicidal encounter with an over twenty feet long basilisk later.

Riddle was smiling as he started answering Adrian's questions of how Ginny got there; Harry grew more startled by the minute. Could all this be true? Could this Riddle character really have controlled Ginny and made her attack all those people, write the messages on the wall and even lead her down here? And how could a memory even do that? Red hot rage filled Harry's veins as he listened to Riddle mocking Ginny; he remembered how she was that morning, pale and desperate to speak to someone; he should have seen it sooner. He wanted to hex Riddle immediately, but would his charms work on a memory? And if they didn't and Riddle called in the basilisk, what then? That was when Riddle came to the point where Ginny threw the diary away and Adrian found it.

"And that's where  _you_ came in, Adrian. You found it, and I couldn't have been more delighted. Of all the people who could have picked it up, it was  _you,_ the very person I was most anxious to meet…" Harry looked at Riddle cautiously; even if he was the heir of Slytherin, why would he want to meet with Adrian?

"And why did you want to meet me?" Adrian angry too, his voice barely staying even.

"Well, you see, Ginny told me all about you, Adrian," said Riddle. "Your whole  _fascinating_ history. I knew I must find out more about you, talk to you, meet you if I could. So I decided to show you my famous capture of that great oaf, Hagrid, to gain your trust…" Riddle proclaimed, making Harry want to forgo spells altogether and just go with punching that infuriating haughtiness out of him. But Riddle continued explaining how he had framed Hagrid for the crimes he had committed, admitting that the only one who had suspected him was the then Transfiguration teacher, Albus Dumbledore himself. At least someone had some sense back then. He explained how Dumbledore had convinced Dippet, the headmaster of the school at the time, to keep Hagrid and train him as the Gamekeeper of Hogwarts. He said that he knew he would be unable to open the Chamber again while he was in school and so he made the diary, so he could return some time in the future and finish what he called 'Salazar Slytherin's noble work', ridding the school of Muggleborn students.

"Well, you haven't finished it," said Adrian triumphantly. "No one's died this time, not even the cat. In a few hours the Mandrake Draught will be ready and everyone who was Petrified will be all right again…"

"Haven't I already told you," said Riddle quietly, "that killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore? For many months now, my new target has been…  _you._ " Harry stared at him in confusion; what was that obsession with his brother? And why was that look in Riddle's eyes so familiar and repulsing at the same time? Riddle continued to explain; he spoke of how Ginny had stolen back the diary and how he had forced her to write her own farewell message on the wall, knowing that the surest way to lure Adrian in would be harming one of his friends. Riddle was going down, Harry thought and raised his wand; his cover was the last thing on his mind at the moment. "I have many questions for you Adrian Potter." The older boy admitted.

"Like what?" Adrian spat, fists clenched. That was the question, Harry thought.

"Well," said Riddle, smiling pleasantly, "how is it that  _you_ … a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent… managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did  _you_ escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?" There was an odd red gleam in his hungry eyes now.

"Why do you care how I escaped?" said Adrian slowly. "Voldemort was after your time…"

"Voldemort," said Riddle softly, "is my past, present, and future, Adrian Potter…" He pulled Harry's wand from his pocket and began to trace it through the air, writing three shimmering words:

**TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE**

Then he waved the wand once, and the letters of his name rearranged themselves:

**I AM LORD VOLDEMORT**

"You see?" he whispered. And Harry did see; his hands trembled and he could hear his heart beating with a fury. It was him; all the time it had been him. And torturing just his family hadn't been enough this time, no; he had gone for their friends too. He started talking about how he was the greatest wizard to have ever lived and Harry wanted to laugh at his face; but no matter his feelings, this was Voldemort and he had to tread cautiously. Adrian wasn't that reserved; he started talking about how Dumbledore was the greatest wizard of all their time, causing Riddle to cringe and glare at him. Before either one could move again however, music came flowing in the room. And not any type of music; it was the song of a phoenix.

And truly it was Fawkes, flying towards them, holding something at his talons, his songs soothing Harry and calming his fraying nerves. That something however, turned out to be the Shorting Hat, now lay almost in front of Harry's feet. Harry looked at it strangely; phoenixes, when they decided to help, were known for gifting the person benefited with the appropriate help for their need. So, when the problem was a basilisk and a Dark Lord, how was an old hat, special as this one was, the answer? Fawkes trilled once more and then went to perch on Adrian's shoulder. What shocked Harry was that the bird looked straight into his eyes and held the gaze for a few seconds; then he  _nodded_? He did, Harry realized, before turning to face Riddle.

"That's a phoenix…" said Riddle, staring shrewdly back at it.

" _Fawkes_?" Adrian breathed, not quite believing the Headmaster's familiar had come to his rescue.

"And  _that_ …" said Riddle, now eyeing the ragged cloth that Fawkes had dropped, "that's the old school Sorting Hat…" Riddle began to laugh again. He laughed so hard that the dark Chamber rang with it, as though ten Riddles were laughing at once… Harry just gazed at him evenly, refusing to be intimidated, even when no one could see him. "This is what Dumbledore sends his defender! A songbird and an old hat! Do you feel brave, Adrian Potter? Do you feel safe now?" Adrian was shaking still, but some colour had returned to his face. Harry allowed himself a smile; two kids against the most feared Dark Lord of all times, trying their best to look brave; even when one was invisible at the moment. Riddle questioned Adrian then, asking how could he have survived his attack as a baby. Harry turned to glance at Ginny; she was becoming weaker and Riddle stronger; this had to end soon.

"I don't know how I did it." Adrian admitted. "Nobody knows exactly how; but you tried to kill me, my brother and my parents that night. Professor Dumbledore said that my magic reacted and it was enough to bring you down. 'Cause I have seen you last year, the real you; and you're ugly and foul and in hiding…"

"Enough!" Cried Riddle outraged. "I had more questions for you, Adrian, but now it matters not; no matter what your power might be, you won't live to harness it. You die today Adrian Potter. Now, I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin, against famous Adrian Potter, and the best weapons Dumbledore can give him…" He turned towards the statue of Slytherin and spoke in Parseltongue, Harry cringing as he heard him, this was it. " _Speak to me, Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts Four._ " And Slytherin answered; the statue's mouth opened wide, stone clashing against stone, until a dark opening, deep and ominous, appeared. Harry could hear the serpent that was uncoiling its large body moving towards the opening; he lowered his eyes and backtracked, mentally promising Ginny he would be back.

He heard something colliding with the floor and then a strong hiss, not a word, just the call of a hunter getting ready to attack its prey. Adrian was next to him, moving backwards, his eye half-closed, only just allowing him to see what he was doing. And as the two brothers tried to put as much distance as possible between them and the deadly serpent, Riddle gave his order;

" _Kill him!_ " Harry could hear the basilisk move perfectly, his sharpened hearing making the experience that much more frightening as he moved blindly; he heard a gasp and a thud next to him and instinctively knew Adrian had tripped. Then a booming sound a terrible hiss sounded and Harry opened his eyes; if his brother was in danger of dying, he wouldn't just seat around and do nothing, danger on his life be damned. What he saw surprised him to no end. He looked up the very moment Fawkes dived and blinded the basilisk, his beak hitting one eye after the other. The snake did its best to throw the bird off, convulsing in agony until Riddle intervened;

" _NO!"_ Harry heard Riddle screaming. _"LEAVE THE BIRD! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU!_ _YOU_ _CAN_ _STILL SMELL HIM! KILL HIM!"_  The two boys backed away even more as the basilisk approached, Adrian moving towards an open pipe on his left; Harry did his best to follow, even if he didn't think it to be the best idea. They hid inside and the snake followed, blinded and confused but still deadly. The two boys found themselves inside a maze of pipes, moving around almost blindly, ever pursued by the basilisk.

Adrian made the wrong turn eventually and found himself in a dead end, the exit of the pipe blocked by a large iron grain. He looked around desperately as Harry held his breath taking in his surroundings; the snake hissed, closing in. With a deep breath, Harry had made his decision; he moved out of the pipe and run forward; when he was away enough from his brother, he took one of the stones that lay on the floor and threw it on a metal grain next to him, ducking for cover the next moment. The basilisk, still disoriented from the pain, took the bait and passed Adrian without noticing him; it slithered right past Harry too, following the path where the sound Harry had made had come from. Not even daring to sigh in relief, the green eyed boy turned to look for his brother. But Adrian wasn't there.

Harry decided that, while he loved his brother and would go to great lengths to help him, his twin was probably going to be the death of him. Had he returned back to the Chamber with Voldemort? Generally, bravery was a feature he admired in others and hoped he could find in himself. But running straight into a room where a Dark Lord was waiting to kill you without a wand? That was borderlining on stupidity. Then again, the green eyed wizard thought as he hastily made his return, would he do something different if Severus hadn't spend years teaching him how he should always think first and act later? No, he decided and promised to profusely thank his Dad once he got out. If he got out.

Once he made it back to the Chamber, he was met with the sight of his brother talking to Riddle yet again. Adrian was pale and shaking but tried to hold his ground while Riddle just appeared bored.

"I have no idea how you escaped my basilisk, but you have started to tire me." The boy that would grow up to be the darkest wizard of all times proclaimed.

"And what are you going to do about it?" Adrian asked, trying to sound more confident than he was. Harry cringed at his choice of words; baiting a Dark Lord wasn't smart. "You're just a memory." Adrian continued. "You had to send your basilisk to kill me; you're too weak to do it yourself." Riddle smirked.

"You're quite right." He admitted, effectively silencing Adrian. Harry hated the calm tone in which he talked as he took Adrian's wand of his pocket. "I don't have the strength to kill you yet. But you're starting to annoy me; and though I can't kill you…" Riddle smirked and Harry moved closer; it was about time he intervened. "I think a stunner I can manage." And he did just that, a red light leaving Adrian's wand and hitting its proprietor straight on the chest, sending him tumble on the floor; Harry hated seeing his brother get hurt but maybe this way, if they survived, he could keep his secret a little longer. "Pathetic really. Nevermind; my basilisk was getting hungry anyway. I might as well spare him the effort of hunting you." Riddle muttered smirking at Adrian's stunned body. Harry went behind one of the snake statues that served as columns and took of his cloak; it was now or never.

"That's just what I was about to say about you; pathetic." He offered, his voice cold as he brought out his inner Severus-spy. He moved from behind the column casting a silent  _Protego_  to stop a second stunner from Riddle.

"Who are you?" The older boy asked, regarding Harry confused, his eyes sticking to his thin frame.

"Name's Harry." The green eyed boy stated, walking closer. He spoke casually, as if confronting demented Dark Lords was a common occurrence for him, strengthening his Occlumency shields with all he had; he had no idea if a memory could use Legilimency, or if Voldemort at age sixteen had mastered the skill, but he had no intention to find out.

"Harry?" Riddled asked, regarding his new opponent carefully. "Harry  _Potter_?" He smirked again. "The brother of the great Boy Who Lived! Ginny has talked about you too; you and your green eyes." He chuckled mirthlessly. "And how did you end up down here little Harry?"

"I heard there was a party and I thought to stop by." Harry deadpanned; baiting was one thing, but he wouldn't stand to be mocked.

"A backbone!" Riddle exclaimed. "Such a big mouth for someone so small. Tell me Harry, what do you mean to do here? What do you hope to achieve where your brother, the great hero, has failed so miserably? Hoping for some fame? Tired of living in your brother's shadow?" Riddle taunted. If that's how you want to play, Harry thought and smirked back.

"Me?" He asked, his attitude managing to confuse Riddle. "No, I can't say I have a taste for fame; some recognition would be nice though." Harry answered. Riddle kept looking at him, judging his reactions. "And as you well know," Harry continued "appearances can often be deceiving." And with a flick of his wand, he took away all the concealment charms he had placed on himself, having the pleasure to see Riddle's eyes widen in surprise. He had figured a surprised Riddle would be easier to tackle than a concentrated one and besides, if he survived he would place the charms right back on. If he died it wouldn't really matter. And maybe, just maybe, he wanted to wipe that arrogant smile from Riddle's face.

"I see." Riddle commented, revaluating the situation; the boy that was now standing in front of him was nothing like the skinny child he had thought him to be. This Harry was a good head taller than his brother, generally tall for his age, and seemed to be capable of holding his own. And his eyes were calculative, analysing the situation as it unrolled, speaking of a bright mind and knowledge above his years. Tom Riddle had always taken pride in being able to judge someone's character on first glance. But here he had a paradox; a boy far too young to have eyes so old.

"Do you really see, I wonder?" Harry asked moving even closer. He was now standing almost next to Ginny -which had been his goal all along- and right across Riddle. "I think you don't."

"I'll admit this is an unexpected situation." Riddle said. "But it makes no difference; if your brother wasn't strong enough to stop me, why should you be?" A hiss was heard from the wall behind them; there, next to the statue of Slytherin, was an open pipe, probably another exit from the maze; Harry looked hastily around. And in truth there were many more pipes around, the hisses of the basilisk reverberating through the walls. Harry realised he just couldn't afford having the giant serpent just pounce from anywhere it wanted. Maybe he could get two birds with one stone?

"A valid question." Harry offered. "Why should I be able to stop you when my brother couldn't? All I can answer Riddle is…" He smiled and pointed his want towards Riddle.

"You can't kill a memory, Harry."

"I'm not aiming at one." Harry offered and pointed his wand right over Riddle's shoulder. " _Bombarda!_ " he called and a bright red jet of light left his wand and made impact with a snake column, taking it down and effectively blocking one pipe. He jumped backwards putting a column he didn't mean to destroy between him and Riddle and then blew as many snake statues as fast as he could, one burgeoning spell following the next, blocking all exits until only one, the one on Riddle's right was left; he didn't want the basilisk to try and get out on his own because then he could still appear through any of the collapsed pipes; he just wanted to fight him where he had an advantage. When the dust set, he found himself facing a shocked Tom Riddle. "As I was saying, all I can answer is;  _I'm not my brother, Riddle._ " He had spoken the last part in Parseltongue, making Riddle frown.

"It was  _you_ , wasn't it?" He asked enraged. "Not Adrian." He never specified what he meant by that. It wasn't needed; Harry understood perfectly.

"You noticed." Harry simply stated as the hissing returned stronger; the basilisk had found its way out. Harry's mind was on overdrive; as impressive his spells had been up to that moment, they weren't strong enough to pierce the harder-than-granite skin of the basilisk; a phoenix's beak was, but it wasn't big enough to do major damage; he swore to learn as many large scale spells as possible if he got out. I need help, he thought frantically. If only Severus was here… He moved to the side as the basilisk re-emerged from the wall.

" _Kill him!_ " Riddle ordered again, this time urgency added into his command. Harry moved to the right, away from the snake and close to where he had first stood once he had entered the Chamber. His eyes fell on the Sorting Hat that still lay there.

"I really need some help." He muttered. As if it answered, something glittered inside the hat. The handle of a sword! Harry ducked swiftly and pulled out a great silver broadsword with rubies encrusted on its handle; Severus had once told him about it; the legendary sword of Gryffindor, made of goblin steel. Goblin steel? Harry thought, twirling the sword in his hand, getting the feel of it. This could just work. Riddle was looking at him, pure hatred in his eyes at the snake moved forward in a swift, fluidic movement unexpected from a creature its size.

Holding his wand on his left hand, he cast a few quick, minor curses, the noise as they made impact confusing the snake. This had to end quickly; he moved forward and, once the basilisk lowered its head realising where Harry was, he brought the sword upwards with a practiced move, stabbing the basilisk on a relatively softer spot, right were the lower jaw connected with its body, the sword going all the way through its head. He retracted the sword and moved hurriedly out of the way as the basilisk tumbled and fell. He turned his eyes back to Riddle, briefly glancing at the sword in his hand.

"Tricky thing this goblin steel." He stated as he moved forward again, sidestepping the dead basilisk and glaring at Riddle with the same hatred the Dark Lord directed at him. "It absorbs whatever makes it stronger and I just pierced through the poison glands, the very organs that produced your basilisk's venom." He approached the spot where Ginny lay, pale as death; seeing her like that only boosted his anger. "I'm going to teach you a little lesson Riddle; let's see what happens when a basilisk induced sword pierces a memory poisoned diary." And he pierced the still open diary swiftly, not giving Riddle time to react for something else than screaming. He turned around as the memory of the Dark Lord withered and burned with the diary, a small river of ink pouring from the little book; a hurried glance at Ginny proved she was coming around, some colour returning to her face already as her tormentor faded away. The memory of Voldemort was no more.

He swiftly dropped the sword next to his brother -who lay close enough to the dead basilisk to have managed to be emerged in a pool of the dead serpent's blood- and grabbed the cloak from behind the column. He turned to Fawkes who was observing the scene, perched on the dead basilisk's body.

"You won't tell on me, will you?" He asked, too tired to even plead. Fawkes regarded him for less than a fracture of a second before giving him that nod once again, accompanied with a single soft note. The warm feeling that spread in his heart was enough of an affirmation. "Thank you, Fawkes." Harry said softly looking at his brother and a still sleeping Ginny. "Will you help them get out?" Another soft note assured him he would. Harry smiled weakly and threw the cloak over himself, trying not to smear it with the basilisk blood on his hands. He walked away a few steps before turning back and casting an  _Enervate_  spell on his brother. And let Dumbledore explain that one.

He left the Chamber swiftly, intend on never to return. Ron should be close to clearing the way and he would be content to just sit back and let him continue. He would wait for Fawkes to take the others up first and then he could use an ascension spell to get out himself. The first plan was to get immediately into Severus's office. But maybe a hot shower was in order first; explaining the blood could get a bit tricky any other way.

And as Harry left and Adrian tried to comprehend what had happened, his hazel eyes wide, a different pair of eyes opened for the second time in the past two minutes. Ginny Weasley tried to understand what had just happened; the last thing he remembered was Tom Riddle getting coming out of the diary. Yet now, there she was, laying on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets where she had fallen, a slain basilisk a few feet away from her with a phoenix perched on top of it, the diary pierced right in the middle and the hero of wizarding world looking between the dead serpent and the sparkling sword now in his hand in wonder. And all she could do as he called her name was keep staring mystified at the point were his twin brother had disappeared.

 


	33. Explaining The Unexplainable

Harry had just left the Gryffindor bathroom, after standing under the water for some good thirty minutes. He hadn't even realised the amount of grime, ink and blood he had managed to get covered with while at the Chamber. After reaching Myrtle's bathroom he had parted ways with his brother, Ron, Ginny and a more distracted than usual Lockhart; he had caught a glimpse of them as they turned slowly around the corner, Adrian holding Gryffindor's sword. Harry had simply turned around and headed for the bathroom, enjoying the soft sound of his feet on the stone floor, the silencing spell he had used having long since wore off. He had never imagined there would come a day when he would appreciate such a sound.

A few minutes after the warm spray of water had hit his shoulders, Harry had dissolved into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, leaning back on the wall and then collapsing on the tiles of the shower, a tide of emotions sweeping over him. Relief, terror, excitement, exhaustion; all contrasting and still coexisting, as he struggled to regain his control.

Regaining control took a little longer than he had expected it would and he found himself relatively in check twenty minutes later, hiding under the invisibility cloak, concealing charms in place, dressed in his newly Scourgified robes, intent of returning to his bed before someone came asking for him. He climbed the stairs using the last traces of the adrenaline rush he had experienced in the Chamber and had managed to slide into his bed in record time, the cloak back at its place in Adrian's trunk, mercifully free of blood as nothing seemed to stain the cloth from which it was made of.

And he had returned just in time too; it couldn't have been more than ten minutes later when Professor McGonagall woke them all up for an impromptu feast. It wasn't like I would have slept anyway, Harry thought sarcastically. I slay basilisks every day, why should I be tired? But in all honesty, he wouldn't have been able to sleep, not really, and getting some food into him sounded like a good idea.

So he went down to the feast where he only managed to stay for the first course, as he was soon called to the Headmaster's office. There he found Severus, his whole family -Sirius and Remus included- and the Headmaster immersed in a deep conversation. Adrian, who was still covered in blood and slime from his nightly adventure, gave him a tired smile which Harry returned, trying his best to appear jovial and utterly unaware of the situation. Severus just gave him his patented  _we'll talk later_  look, appearing completely unconvinced of whatever it was he had just heard. Harry nodded at him and that seemed to be all the confirmation he needed. The potions master rolled his eyes slightly, folded his arms over his chest and let his face slip back into the cold mask again. The panic attack he was inwardly experiencing after Harry had practically acknowledged he had had a part in the night's events would have to wait a few more minutes I seemed.

"What happened?" Harry asked in his best surprised voice. "Is everybody alright? Professor McGonagall said Ginny is back." Lily and James came over to hug their son briefly before turning their attention to his blood-soaked elder twin. A soft tang of hurt spread in his chest, but then he reminded himself that his parents didn't know the truth. Severus did though, he thought, and the hurt was soon replaced by thoughts of how his Dad would react upon hearing the true story. A comforting warmth, akin to the one Fawkes's song had induced earlier that night hit him and he decided that, on the family subject, he might have gotten the better part of the deal. He also figured he would probably be grounded for the rest of the summer, judging from how Severus was clenching and unclenching his fists; it was still worth it.

"Adrian had yet another run in with the Dark Lord, that's what!" Sirius piped in, trying to sound lighthearted. It was always an indicator of how dangerous or grave a situation was when Padfoot tried and failed to sound cheerful.

"What?" Harry exclaimed, making a show to shiver as he sat down on the chair offered to him. He could swear he saw Severus's lips twitch for a second.

"Let me explain." Dumbledore offered and began narrating everything Adrian had told them; Harry listened carefully, getting his brother's side of the story for the first time. Dumbledore paused and looked at Adrian with kind eyes when he reached the point when he and Ron realized that the entrance to the chamber was at Myrtle's bathroom. Adrian was looking at the ground, slightly embarrassed from having all the rule breaking he had done being spoken of so openly. "And then we have tonight's events." The Headmaster stated; for a second, Harry thought he had been discovered, not having been exactly subtle these past few hours. But Dumbledore was still looking at Adrian, a proud smile on his face. One that, mixed with worry, was also shared by the rest of the adults in the room, sans Severus.

"Adrian did his thing again he means." Sirius explained with a wide smile, patting a blushing Adrian on the shoulder. To say that Harry was curious would be an understatement.

"What did you do now, brother?" The green eyed wizard asked smiling too, relief flooding him now that he realized someone had come up with an explanation for the stunt he had pulled. And if he felt just a small pang of disappointment that nobody seemed to consider something was amiss, well, he did his best to smother it.

"Nothing I remember doing." Adrian muttered, still trying to fight down his blush.

"Which was always expected, my boy." Albus reassured him as Harry turned to look at Severus for an explanation that actually made sense. The potions master had cocked an eyebrow and was just letting the scene unfold.

"I still don't get it." Harry said, deciding the only way to get answers would be to ask directly.

"Once again, allow me to elaborate; your parents would like to listen to this too, I believe." The Headmaster said. "First, we have entering to the Chamber itself; one of the main reasons why nobody had ever been able to find the Chamber, let alone enter it, would be the fact that you need to be a Parselmouth to open the entrance, an ability Adrian has not."

"Thank Merlin for that too!" James offered. "Dark as they make 'em, those Parselmouths." Harry idly wondered what Merlin, being a Parselmouth himself, would have to say at such a declaration.

"So, how did Adrian enter the Chamber then?" Harry asked confused.

"He simply commanded it." Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling wildly. Harry did a double-take.

"Just like that?" He asked smiling; the Headmaster covered his tracks better than any story he might have come up with. And he seemed to believe it too. "Well, what did you expect?" He turned to Adrian. "You have inherited Mom's temperament; it's been proven to bring down walls." Everybody laughed at Harry's remark, Severus almost joining in.

"Tell me about it." James stated.

"In the beginning I thought it didn't open." Adrian admitted. "Then Lockhart tried to escape…"

"As expected." Remus commended.

"… and when we returned to the bathroom the sink had given way and a pipe was revealed on the floor."

"And you decided to jump in." James offered. "Definitely my son!"

"Don't encourage him, James!" Lily warned. "What he did was dangerous; he could have died!"

"But he didn't." Her husband countered.

"Not now, James." Lily stated drily and turned towards the Headmaster. "Please continue; you still have to explain the specifics of what happened to Adrian." Albus nodded and continued; he narrated the events pretty much as Harry remembered them, minus his own involvement, up to the point when Riddle stunned Adrian.

"And that's the point that Adrian's powers surfaced once again." Dumbledore stated. Harry looked at him confused, the image of his brother stunned on the floor still dominant -and painful- on his mind.

"How?" The green eyed wizard asked.

"The specifics I can not give; but it seems his magic reacted violently to the threat, taking control of his body and fighting back. Adrian left the entrance open…" I knew I had forgotten something, Harry thought "so Severus and I went down to see what had happened to the Chamber from up close." And  _that's_  why Severus was there. "The backslash from your magic outburst must have been tremendous, my dear boy." The Headmaster stated looking at Adrian with a wide smile. "The Chamber was almost destroyed." It wasn't  _that_  bad, Harry thought sheepishly. He had just brought down a few columns. And maybe a couple of statues. And then there was the basilisk slain in the middle of the room. Okay. I trashed the place, Harry admitted to himself, trying his best to keep a nervous chuckle from escaping.

"But what of Slytherin's monster? And how did Voldemort get involved?" Harry questioned, figuring that the more details he heard at the moment, the less chance he had to let something that he wasn't supposed to know slip later on, like the fact that the monster was truly a basilisk for example. Dumbledore explained how the owner of the diary, Tom Riddle, was really the Dark Lord himself -Harry feigned surprise once again- and what the monster really was. He spoke of Fawkes's intervention and how Adrian must have pulled the sword from the Shorting Hat, his magic calling out for help.

"And what does the old Cap have to say about it all?" Sirius asked and Harry tried not to show his panic; he had forgotten about the bloody hat!

"Unfortunately, the hat's magic only works when sorting someone at the beginning of their stay at Hogwarts; after that, all he can tell about that person is its opinion on the sorting and even that stays confidential between the hat and the student." Dumbledore explained and Harry's muscles relaxed. That had been sheer damned luck. "But Fawkes who was there confirmed that the basilisk was slain by the sword that did indeed come out from the hat." Harry marveled at the phoenix's ability to tell the truth without going into specifics; the basilisk had been slain by the sword of Gryffindor that had been indeed pulled from the hat. Who had summoned it and how, had been kept hidden from the Headmaster.

And Albus went on with the details of how he believed the apparent magical outburst had taken place; evidently, there had always been a theory that, the older Adrian got and the closer to maturity his power came, the more violent its manifestations would be until he came to control it. "Being almost a teenager and in a dire situation must have caused such a reaction." The old wizard reasoned.

"But he fainted afterwards." Remus commented.

"That's only expected; the amount of magic he released must have exhausted him." And the fact that he might have actually been stunned never occurred to you? Harry regarded the Headmaster disbelievingly. Was it so far fetched to think that, since he and Severus had entered the Chamber later, somebody else could have done the same?

"But what does that mean for Adrian?" Lily asked, clasping her older son's hand.

"Maybe we should talk about this a little more privately." Albus offered. "Severus, why don't you take young Harry over here to the feast? It must still be going strong." So they would talk about Adrian's training again? How unexpected, the green eyed wizard thought. And he wasn't invited to join the conversation; again, how shocking indeed!

"Of course, Albus." The potions master said and opened the door to escort Harry out of the room. Once the door was closed behind them, Severus motioned them to start walking, not talking to each other as they descended all the way to the dungeons. It was only after the door to Severus's office had been closed and locked that the potions master looked at Harry straight in the eyes. "What in Merlin's name happened?" He asked, his voice tight and gruff.

"Voldemort, as you might have heard. Him and his pet basilisk." The green eyed wizard stated.

"I want details, Harry. What were you thinking?" Severus stated sternly, removing the concealing spells from his self, the grim look remaining. "I thought you had promised you would ask for my help if the need arose." His dark eyes were focused on the boy sitting in front of him and he had to clasp his hands together to stop the trembling. These annual run-ins with Voldemort were going to take years off his life if they hadn't already.

"It wasn't my fault." Harry explained, his expression solemn. "Adrian provided me with a vey tight timeframe. It all started going wrong after the Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson this morning…" His narration of the events coincided sparsely with the one Albus had offered and it had a much more visible effect on the potions master. Once Harry had finished his tale, Severus had stepped forward and enveloped the boy in a tight hug, his tall frame trembling as he held on for dear life. Harry's eyes widened as he hugged him back, realizing the potions master was close to tears.

"Do you realize how easily you could have been killed?" Severus asked after sobering up enough to form complete sentences. "A single bite from that snake and you would have been…" Instead of finishing his sentence he held the boy even tighter.

"I'm okay, Dad." Harry reassured him. "I really am."

"I just wish… I just wish you didn't have to go through all that." Severus admitted.

"I do too." Harry stated softly. "But I am going through it. And I would have it much worse if it wasn't for you." Severus pulled back to look at Harry.

"You'd do great without me."

"I'm not so sure." Harry said disagreeing. "All I know I learned from or because of you." The green eyed boy admitted. "What I'm trying to say here is; thank you, Dad." Severus simply nodded, the slight smile on his face coming in dire contrast with his moist eyes.

"You just have a thing for near death situations, don't you?" Severus asked at an attempt in humor.

"More like near death situations have a thing for me." Harry retorted, rolling his eyes.

"Oh well, I guess you wouldn't be you without those death defying stunts." The potions master stated nonchalantly. "Merlin forbid you had a normal year in Hogwarts!" The sarcasm in his voice only purged Harry's off-handed response.

"Why would I want to be normal when I can be me?" The green eyed wizard asked slyly.

"You cheeky brat!" Severus exclaimed fondly, briefly wondering how many times he had called Harry that -and why he had been justified every time he did.

"You know it!" Harry deadpanned with a smirk. The rest few weeks of the school year passed as calm as one could get after the events of the past few months. Hagrid had returned from Azkaban the very night the basilisk had been killed and the petrified victims had been cured only a few hours after that. To Hermione's great horror, the exams been cancelled had been the first official announcement Dumbledore had made once he was reinstated. Lockhart -after managing to be hit with the spell he was aiming at Adrian and Ron- had managed to cause permanent damage to his memory and was thus removed from the staff to the approval of the whole school. Lucius Malfoy had been relieved of his duties as one of Hogwart's Councilors and Adrian had even tricked him into freeing Dobby who turned out to be one of the Malfoy house elves.

All and all, Harry thought, everything seemed to return back to normal, or whatever normal passed for in his life, the green eyed boy reflected. Well, with the exception of Severus being even more protective than he thought he could ever be, watching over him like a hawk and sending him hot chocolate every night with Minnie; Adrian had even started wondering how it was possible for the kitchens' house elves to favor him so much, but Harry had simply shrugged it off.

And speaking of Adrian… Harry was doing his best not to feel guilty, reasoning that he  _did_  save his brother's life after all, but he was finding it difficult; his parents and Dumbledore, excited and scared at the same time with his supposed advance in magic, had decided to double their efforts in reproducing the effects. Visiting doctors and specialist was now deemed unsafe, but the training sessions were doubled and Adrian had been sulking for days as Harry was mentally apologizing. Severus had rolled his eyes and said that he was over-thinking the situation as usual.

On the brighter side, Gryffindor -thanks to the four hundred points Adrian and Ron had been awarded- had won the House Cup second year in a row and Ginny was back to normal; she was laughing and joking around with her brothers and had even let it slip that the Ravenclaw prefect that had been petrified, Penelope Clearwater, was Percy's girlfriend. The twins had actually fallen on their knees and thanked her for the information, their eyes sparkling at the new blackmail material.

"Not very nice of you, outing Percy's secret like that." Harry had stated smirking at the twins retreating forms as he sat down on his seat in Hogwarts Express, waiting for the train to start.

"Well, Percy  _did_  prevent me from telling you what I knew of the Chamber that day and besides, he wouldn't be able to keep it a secret for far too long." Ginny stated with a shrug, feeling completely guiltless. Harry had shared a look with Neville; they had reached a mutual understanding of how much of a torture Percy's life would become over the summer.

"You do have a point." Harry considered it a miracle already that Percy had been able to hide such a thing with Fred and George living in the same house.

"And besides, it wasn't  _that_  important." Ginny concluded. "Those who know me well understand that I'm exceedingly good at keeping important secrets, Harry." The red-head stated solemnly. Harry noticed her changed demeanor and wondered if she had remembered something from her time under Voldemort's influence; no matter what it was, the look in her eyes made him believe that she was telling the truth. He appreciated Ginny's resolve just a little bit more at that moment. Maybe come next year they could hang out more; it would be nice to have friends around his age -other than the twins. With a soft smile he turned back to his book as the steam engine started moving.

Another year at Hogwarts was over and summer was just beginning; and Merlin do I have plans for the summer, Harry thought, smirking behind his book, his mind focusing for a moment in the, in theory at least, completed designs in his trunk.

 


	34. Coming Into My Own

Harry was pacing up and down in front of James's private office doors in the Potter Manor for the past half an hour. Normally, the thirteen year old wizard showed a patience that was the envy of most Griffindors but under those specific circumstances, he was just about ready to pace the walls. He was almost used to it by now, Adrian getting the better part of their parents' attention. But for once, Harry thought, he hoped they would pay enough attention to him, listen to what he had to say before they opposed.

He knew he really shouldn't be that nervous; it wasn't as if he was going to ask for something that his parents would, in theory, be against and he had never truly asked something of them before. But, Merlin, he really wanted this! And all that separated him from his goal was his father's agreement. He sighed and stared at the door waiting eagerly for the meeting with Dumbledore to be over; they had been talking about Adrian's training for more than an hour now; how much longer could it possibly take them? He thought back on the past month and how he was led to this point in time.

Returning from school soon saw him leaving the Potter Manor for Silbreith, his parents intend on starting Adrian's training earlier that summer. James was excited with the development in Adrian's magic while Lily was concerned and that seemed to have added some tension to their relationship; all and all, Harry had been happy to leave for the castle he called home. Minnie, to whom Severus must have vented all his anxiety after Harry's latest stunt, had never treated him with so many chocolate cakes before and the green eyed boy had actually been forced by the potions master to take some time off his studies and just relax; after a couple days of complaining that he was staying behind and trying to sneak into the library the green eyed boy eventually gave in and tried to just lay back for a few weeks. So, unable to just sit back and do nothing, he had focused on his broomstick design. It was well into the summer, a few days before his birthday, by the time the broom was ready.

Harry had just taken a step back and looked at the finished broom; it had taken him a year of designing and he had proceeded through trial and error, but he had made it. In front of him, hovering just at the perfect height for mounting, was the fruit of his labors. Honestly, he was more shocked that he had created a racing broom than he had been with the Philosopher's Stone. The Stone was a product of years of studies with an alchemist who actually knew how to make the Stone and had slowly pushed him towards the right direction. But this broomstick? Harry looked at the finished prototype in front of him in wonder as a sense of pride overwhelmed him; he had done this all by himself.

Not wasting any time, he had taken the now complete with notes blueprints of his broom and headed to Severus, leaving the actual broomstick in his room. The potions master had no idea he had actually made one already as he was following a lead on his Wolfsbane project. For all he knew, Harry was still experimenting. Almost running the whole way to the potions lab, the green eyed boy knocked the door in glee.

"Hello, Harry." Severus greeted the boy with a smile. "I was just about to head upstairs for some iced tea. Would you like to join me?"

"Sure!" Harry nodded enthusiastically. "And I have something to show you too!" Severus observed the boy, how he was almost bouncing with excitement and the rolled up parchments he was holding.

"Let's go then." Severus agreed, his curiosity baited. "So, what do you want to show me?" He had asked after finally sitting in the living room, waiting for their tea.

"Remember how I was trying to design a broomstick?" The boy asked smiling widely.

"Yes." Severus stated nodding as Minnie placed two glasses of tea on a coffee table. "Thank you, Minnie." The house elf bowed and left the room.

"Well I finished it." He said and unrolled the blueprints handing them to a startled potions master. Severus shot a confused look at Harry before turning his attention to the design. His eyes widened and he looked at the boy again; Harry had a smug expression on his face.

"This is… I mean the calculations… And the design…" He re-read the notes on the parchment. "If you manage to make a broomstick work like that, you might have the best racing broom yet in your hands." The potions master stated shocked; some of the ideas on Harry's design required advanced magic and most of the features added were a novelty, signs of the boy's brilliance. He regarded the boy proudly.

" _If_  I make a broomstick like that?" Harry asked smirking. " _Accio_!" He bellowed, thinking of the still unnamed prototype in his room; the broomstick came flying in the room, stopping right in front of Harry. Severus's jaw dropped.

"You've  _made_  one?" The potions master muttered in disbelief.

"This is the prototype based on the design you saw." Harry stated. "The handle is ash and the twigs in the tail are birch. The bipod is made of steel forged in my alchemy lab and it's undetachable. It has been treated with a diamond-hard polish. It's capable of going from naught to one hundred and fifty miles per hour in ten seconds, the Braking Charm I've installed is unbreakable and I just  _dare_  you to try its balance." Severus looked from the broomstick to Harry in awe before grabbing the prototype and heading for the balcony doors. Without saying anything else, he climbed on the broom and took off.

The experience was amazing; whatever Harry had done, it definitely worked. It was as if the broom was obeying his thoughts instead of his movements and the top speed was dizzying. He maneuvered, dived straight towards the ground in pure excitement braking the last minute, the broom executing every move in utter perfection. Harry just watched him from the ground, the potions master's smile contagious enough to have him grinning too.

"Having fun up there?" The green eyed wizard asked happily; Severus turned to him and zoomed towards the ground, braking a fracture of a second before he hit the ground. He jumped off the broom and right in front of Harry; his hair was disheveled and he was smiling like a five year old boy on sugar high.

"You're a genius!" He exclaimed, holding the broom in his hands reverently as his breath calmed down. "So, have you chosen a company yet?" The potions master asked after stopping his enthusiastic praise of the new broomstick.

"Company?" Harry asked confused. Severus just regarded him blankly, blinking twice.

"You  _are_  marketing it right?" Severus asked, incredulity colouring his voice at Harry's shocked expression.

"Do you think someone would like to buy it?" Harry had asked softly.

"I would!" Severus exclaimed. "And any broomstick company in the world." Instead of being excited about his comment, Harry's eyes lost their sparkle as the boy lowered his head.

"But I can't." Harry stated. "We're laying low, remember?" Severus, realizing the root of the problem just let out a laugh. So that's why Harry hadn't even thought what he was going to do with the broomstick after it was finished? "What's so funny?"

"Harry, you don't have to have your name published as the creator of the broom; it will be marketed under the name of the company you choose."

"But I'm only twelve." Harry reminded him. "Do you think anybody will want to finance a project coming from me?"

"You'll be thirteen in four days." Severus reminded him. "According to magical law, if you have permission from the head of your family, James in this instance, you will be able to work anywhere you want. And you don't have to inform them of your age when you first send them the basic blueprints and the description your broomstick; I will be there with you when you meet with them if you want and we can stress the subject that, if they want the broomstick your name is to stay secret until you say so. Magical contracts are amazing this way."

"And telling Prongs I want to market a racing broomstick I designed won't blow our cover?" Harry asked confused.

"You'll ask his permission to find a summer job; you don't have to specify which one." Severus said, proving once again he had reason to be the Head of Slytherin House, making the boy smirk.

"Do you think it will work?" Harry asked hopefully; Severus just smirked.

"I've been managing my family's assets for years without anyone being the wiser." Severus pointed out. Harry just smiled. "Now tell me more about that Braking Spell you've created."

"Well, it's a variation of the Horton-Keitch Braking Charm…" Harry explained.

It had happened just as the potions master had predicted; they had sent the basic blueprint and a description of what the broom could to Nimbus Racing Broom Co. and the very next day Harry had been asked for an appointment he gladly arranged for next week. Severus had even gone the extra mile and arranged for a goblin representative to be appointed for Harry's financial moves. They were to meet him at Diagon Alley and Severus insisted nobody was better to strike fear in the hearts of businessmen trying to take advantage of you than your goblin consultant.

So, here he was, on the day of his thirteenth birthday, waiting for his parents to spare him a few minutes of their time; he needed James's permission just this once. Movement was heard from the other side of the door, chairs being pushed and footsteps as someone was about to leave the office. And truly, the doors opened and the Headmaster, smiling softly walked towards Harry.

"Happy birthday, my boy." He wished him passing by.

"Good morning, professor and thank you."

"Happy to have your family back for your birthday?" Dumbledore asked as the rest of Harry's family joined them in the hall.

"Very much so, sir." Harry confirmed. James looked at his younger son smiling.

"You wanted to ask me something, right?" He asked approaching him.

"Yes, if you have some time." Harry answered diplomatically.

"Sure, Harry." James said warmly. "Just let me escort Albus to the fireplace and I'll be right with you." Harry nodded with a soft smile, wishing the Headmaster a good day once again. Adrian turned at Harry, a tired expression on his face.

"You know, sometimes I don't even see the point of my training; my magic seems to only do its thing just right before I'm about to die." Harry smirked.

"Well, since I don't have a Dark Lord available right now, we can just tell Mom you broke her good china." The green eyed boy stated.

"But I didn't." Adrian pointed out confused.

"She doesn't know that." Harry explained. "And if something's going to put you in a life or death situation, that's it." Adrian burst out laughing as James and Lily, accompanied by Remus and Sirius who were bickering over Merlin knows what, returned to the office.

"What did we miss?" Lily asked at the sight of her smiling sons.

"Oh, you had to be there." Harry stated, thinking that mentioning breaking her favorite china, even if it was a joke, wasn't going to work for him right now.

"So, Harry, what did you want to ask?" James wondered as they all moved back to his office.

"Well I've been thinking…" Harry started looking outside the open window; James's office had a view of the Quidditch court in the fields and Harry gathered his courage. "All of you are away for the summer while I just sit around doing nothing." He stated. Lily intervened.

"Harry, if it was safe to take you with us we would, but if, Merlin forbid, you were ever caught then…" Harry chuckled once and motioned her to stop.

"No, Mom, that's not what I meant." He turned to face his family smiling reassuringly; the last thing he wanted was to follow them to wherever they were training Adrian. "I get why I can't come with you, don't worry." Or, he thought as Lily smiled, I get why you  _think_  I can't come with you.

"Then what, kiddo?" Sirius asked, munching on a cookie he had snatched from a plate on James's desk.

"Well, I just want to do something constructive during my summers too and since I turned thirteen today… well, I was hoping you could give me your permission to get a job over the holidays." Whatever his family was expecting, it sure wasn't that.

"A job?" James asked confused, looking at Sirius who shared the same dumbfounded look. Adrian was looking at him like he had gone crazy while Lilly and Remus smiled.

"But  _why_?" Sirius asked.

"Well, it will give me some experience, which will be good down the line for when I finish school and I will have something to do while the rest of you are away." Harry explained.

"And where do you think of working?" Lilly asked, smiling proudly at her youngest son.

"I was considering one of the shops in Diagon Alley; did you know they even ask for help in Nimbus Racing Broom Co.?" That got Sirius, James and Adrian nod in understanding.

"Quidditch, now I get it." James said. Harry had figured Prongs would be more willing to give his permission if Quidditch was mentioned and besides, he couldn't just say he was working on a shop in Diagon Alley and then never appear there. A few simple questions from his father to the shop owner and his cover would be blown to smithereens.

"Are you sure you want to do work over the holidays?" Remus asked carefully. "You're already working hard for school."

"And I don't want you to start neglecting your schoolwork…" Lily pointed out.

"I have already finished my homework for the summer and I really want something else to do than just sit around all day." Harry insisted. "Plus, I might not even get the job; I just want to try." His mother's smile returned. "So?" He asked, turning to his father.

"Well, I guess I can't say no when my son is actually begging me to  _work_." James stated, a small smile gracing his face, his hazel eyes twinkling.

"Thank you, Prongs!" Harry exclaimed, hugging his father -it was almost awkward, he hadn't initiated a hug with him since he was six.

"I still don't get why you wouldn't want to just relax during the summer though." Adrian nodded to that.

"You and I both, Dad." He said, hazel meeting hazel in understanding.

"What can I say?" Harry asked shrugging. "I'm a workaholic." Sirius nodded emphatically.

"So, I'll have to contact Girngotts for the document needed and…" Harry interrupted James, leaving the office and returning a few seconds latter with a couple of parchments.

"I took the liberty and brought the contracts myself; all we need is your signature, mine and two witnesses and I'm ready to go." Harry clarified as Remus and Sirius snickered at James's shocked expression.

"You really want this, don't you?" James asked pushing his glasses up as his eyes went through the contract; it was the standard contract Gringotts offered in such cases, stating that the Head of a family allowed an underage member of their house to seek employment and have control over the amount of money procured from their endeavors, as long they were deposited in a vault under their name and not the family vault. "You'll need a new vault before you look for a job…"

"Already taken care of; I had Professor Snape to take me to Gringotts a few days ago for these contacts and for a new vault." Lilly laughed once as James looked at his son incredulously.

"Okay then." He stated and turned to his two best friends. "Moony, Padfoot, if you will come to sign this…" Harry smiled, his heart beating like crazy; he couldn't believe it was really happening. "Harry, you need to sign too." The green eyed boy moved and signed his name on the contract happily.

"Thank you so much." He said as he turned to face his parents.

"Don't mention it, Harry." Lilly said hugging him. "Now, who's up for some cake?" Harry volunteered happily and left the office with shaking legs, contact in hand and thinking that getting some sugar in him was sounding more than good. Tomorrow he would go to Diagon Alley with Severus and sort everything out. But today he was fully prepared to enjoy his birthday; Neville would be coming over in the afternoon too. It was the first time ever he had called a friend over and Neville's grandmother had agreed to let him spend the night. Things were looking up, Harry thought, as he stroke a conversation over what his chances were to get hired at Nimbus over the summer with his brother.

In the meantime, the very moment this conversation was being held, a girl with crimson hair looked outside her hotel room window to the desert sands in the distance. Taking a trip to Egypt was the best thing that could happen to her at that very moment in time, Ginny thought. It had been two months since she had woken up to find herself on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets, Riddle now truly just a bad memory. Still, at this point in time, it didn't feel like he was only a memory.

The first few weeks after she had woken up in the Chamber of Secrets had been mostly consisted of days filled with numbness. Taking a Dreamless Sleep potion every night and within the general jovial atmosphere in the castle, with the petrified students coming to life and the exams being canceled, it had been easy to slip into a steady routine and pretend nothing had happened. When, on the last day of term, professor McGonagall had summoned her in her office and asked her whether she had thought on what had happened to her the past year, she had simply answered no. At that point in time, she hadn't; the Head of Gryffindor had only smiled sadly and offered her a cup of tea, reminding her that her office's door was always open for her should she need to speak with somebody. Ginny had nodded, not believing she would need it; now she understood how naïve she was being.

It had started one day after she had returned to the Burrow. George and Fred were teasing Percy for his girlfriend over breakfast finally bringing her usually reserved older brother to a boiling point;

"She could have died, you know!" Percy had bellowed. "And all you care about was whether I was snogging her during Prefect rounds!" Then he had stormed off to his room, leaving behind Fred and George to be chastised by their mother. The twins had tentatively admitted that they had only been trying to make him loosen up and tell them how he and Penelope had gotten together and had profusely apologized. Molly had commented on how her little Percy had grown, Ron had snickered over his cereal at her comment and Ginny had just stood there thunderstruck, feeling as if a tone of bricks had landed on her heart and crushed it.

" _She could have died you know!"_  That's what Percy had said. Once breakfast was over, she claimed she had a headache and retreated to her room; her mother cast her a concerned look but, having to get everything organized for the trip in Egypt and having been reassured by her daughter's smile that it was only a headache and nothing more, had appeased her.

Ginny had then climbed the stairs to her room, gently closed the door behind her, locked it and sat at the corner of her bed.  _"She could have died you know!"_  still echoed in her head. Yes, Penelope could have died. Hermione with her. And all the other students that had been petrified during the past year. It had been a miracle nobody had died. And who would have been responsible for that? Looking back, she could see that, even during those two weeks of numbness she had been placing the blame on others, trying to keep herself from thinking on what had really happened.

Tom for being who he was and enchanting her, possessing her to bend to his will. Lucius Malfoy for giving her the diary in the first place. Dobby the elf, after Ron had told her of how he had been freed and how he had tried to warn Adrian, for not telling them who the Heir was right away. Even her own brother, Percy, for unwittingly preventing her from telling she was being possessed in the very end.

But deep down she had known, she had always known, that it had been her fault. She had grown up listening to her father's stories of enchanted objects with a mind of their own and how they couldn't be trusted. And what was the first thing she did once she found one? She poured her soul into it. Had seen been that lonely? Had she been that desperate for someone to just listen? She should have known better. There was no one but herself to blame, she had decided there and then. She had spent her whole morning crying.

When she had emerged from her room she was smiling once more; her family had been put through enough because of her, Ginny thought, there was no need for them to share her guilt too. Maybe, come next school year, she would take professor McGonagall's advice and talk to her after all. Everyday from then on had been a struggle; she was putting a brave front for her family, but her nights were filled with nightmares. She had lost count of how many times she woke up, muffling her cries to her pillow. There was death in her dreams; her hands were covered with blood and she was in the Chamber once more. Tom was always smiling, the corners of his lips turned up cruelly.

It was one of those dreams that woke her up this time too. She had been trying to take an afternoon nap since there was some type of local spectacle Bill was bent on the whole family to see later that night. It had only ended up with her dreaming of the Chamber once more; why had she ever expected anything different. Tom had actually spoken to her in her dream this time.

"You killed them all!" And he pointed at the dead bodies of her family and friends and of the petrified victims from last year. "It's all your fault, you silly girl." And he had laughed, the sound of his cold voice and the hissing of the basilisk accompanying her as she woke up panting and covered in sweat on her bed.

He's gone, damn it! She cursed as she looked at the desert in the distance. He's gone and the diary is ashes and back to wherever it came from and that bloody snake is dead! She sighed and slammed backwards to the wall. There was that too. How in the world had the basilisk died? Once she had come around in the chamber, the dead serpent was the first think that had caught her attention. How could it not, when it was laying there, in the middle of the rambles and the blood that was seeping from its wound. Then, after a few seconds spent in marveling at being alive, she turned her eyes away from the basilisk and around the Chamber. It had been halfway to demolished, she had found out in shock.

And there, next to the dead snake and a fainted Adrian Potter, stood another boy. He was tall with jet black hair and held a glittering sword in his hands; his right hand and white Hogwart's shirt was soaked in dark blood. He was looking at a crimson coloured bird she later found out to be Fawkes, Headmaster Dumbledore's phoenix, and had asked him to get them out. Then he had sighed and turned towards her; Ginny had acted impulsively and had shut her eyes. She then heard the clanking of metal on stone and the swooshing sound of a spell being cast. She had tentatively opened her eyes, just to catch a glimpse of the boy again disappearing into thin air. The clanging sound must have been the bejeweled he had held hitting the floor, for now it was in Adrian's hands. Adrian seemed to have woken up, and was staring at the dead basilisk in wonder. What had happened? And why did that strange boy sound just like Harry?

For -the more she thought about it later- it must have been Harry, even if he had looked so different back then. Ginny couldn't be certain, she was still too dizzy, too much disorientated when she woke up to know for sure, but Harry had seemed different that night; different but somewhat utterly recognizable. For one, he had been taller. Definitely taller than she remembered him to be, or how he had looked the next day when she had seen him again.

Two, it was just something about him; the way he had stood straight and sure of himself, the way he had talked to Fawkes as if the phoenix wasn't perched on a dead basilisk. Even the way he disappeared had been a clue; Ron had often spoken of Adrian's invisibility cloak and how they had used it to sneak out at night. Since Adrian wasn't wearing it, why couldn't Harry have had it? It wasn't as if an invisibility cloak was a common thing to find! It was highly doubtful more than one student could have acquired one. But if Harry had been there, then that meant that he had been the one to face Tom.

And that was yet another part of that night that almost drove her mad in ways the diary had never managed to do; Harry had been the one to slay the basilisk. She had seen him holding the sword and heard him throwing it next to his unconscious brother before he disappeared. And then he was gone and Adrian was waking up and she was left wondering what in Merlin's name had happened.

How could Adrian, the Boy Who Lived, lay on the floor unconscious, while his younger brother was doing all the work for him? And without taking credit for it either, Ginny realized. She was too dazzled to say anything that night in the Headmaster's office, and when she had tried to ask Dumbledore how could he be so sure that it was Adrian that had killed Slytherin's monster since the boy couldn't remember doing anything of the sort, a cursory glance from Fawkes had stopped her. Then it had hit her, even amidst her daze; Fawkes, Dumbledore's familiar, knew about Harry and his involvement yet he had chosen to keep the boy's secret. The phoenix was backing Harry up, she had realized, and who was she to do anything different?

Still, she was confused and she would be damned if she pretended she wasn't extremely curious too. Harry was hiding something and it was of an enormous magnitude. She shook her head dazzled and sighed as she looked at the people walking around in the bazaar beneath her. She had known the green eyed wizard for almost all of her life and she had never noticed anything that could indicate he went around slaying monsters in his free time. But then again, Ginny thought, how much can you know about a boy who is barely even there?

That, she noticed, was Harry's most prominent trait; he wasn't  _there_. He was always with his family on holidays and birthdays of course, but, in all truth, Ron spent more time in Potter manor than Harry did. And where was Harry at that time? Ron had once let it slip that he was staying with Professor Snape.  _Snape_  of all people! Her head was spinning on the implications; Harry had a whole life away from his family and none was the wiser. And if the boy himself didn't want it to be common knowledge, she knew she had no reason to act against his will. Not that anyone would believe her anyway…

But one thing was certain; Harry was the most interesting person she had ever met. And she owed him her life too. She could definitely try and spend some time knowing him better. And come next year she would, she promised herself. Even if only to find a way to thank him somehow for saving her life. Not that he would ever admit to it of course. She mentally cringed at her childish attempt to bait him into admitting it on the train; "I can keep a secret, Harry", she had said, or something of the sort. She was immensely glad the boy seemed to be thinking something else at the time and hadn't paid any heed to her words. The last thing she had wanted was to come out sounding like a stalker. She shook her head and sighed; what was done was done. She breathed deeply and tried to calm herself; she had to sleep if she wanted to stay awake during whatever this show was Bill was taking them to. Knowing her brother it was going to be spectacular and she didn't want to miss it.

She returned to her bed, praying to be spared of her nightmares just for a while, although she doubted she deserved it. She had done everything wrong year; she had been so foolish. But she would try, she promised herself, to become better. She knew she would make mistakes in the future but she refused to allow others to suffer for them. And she would start keeping her word to Harry, as crudely as her promise had been made; his secrets were his own and he had saved her life. She had no business telling a soul.

And somewhere far away, in a land untouched by time, a Seer smiled as yet another thread of a prophecy she had made long ago started stepping into her path. Soon, she realized as she went to inform her husband of the latest development, all pieces would fall into place. Soon.


	35. Unpleasant Surprises

Harry was staring frustrated at the designs in front of him, an action in which he had devoted at least two hours of his time that afternoon. When he had first heard the idea, when he had first learned of the possibility that he could change into another animal but a wolf, he had thought it amazing. Once he realized that other form could be one of a bird, allowing him to fly with no other magical aid than the transformation itself, he was exhilarated. The moment Severus had brought him the anatomically perfectly accurate designs of the falcons they had selected, he had been exhilarated. And once he started to actually study said designs, he felt like banging his head against the wall.

He should have known really that it wouldn't be easy; he should have gathered as much from Severus's warning or the fact that the specific magical practice had been almost forgotten and considered exceptionally difficult long before it was considered forbidden. He should have known but his excitement had clouded all other functions in his mind until he was certain that the second Animagus form wouldn't be so hard to achieve; he had been fooling himself.

"It's impossible." He murmured for what must have been the tenth time in that afternoon. He had to somehow memorize every muscle, every nerve ending and tiny bone the falcon he aspired to turn into possessed. The eyes alone could take him months! He sighed and looked at the hour; he had officially missed lunch. Again.

"Keep skipping meals and Minnie's going to throttle me for giving you these scrolls." The voice of Severus Snape called from over his left shoulder. Harry jumped in fear as he turned around, a hand over his rapidly beating heart.

"Keep surprising me like that and  _I'm_  going to throttle you." He retorted as Severus sat next to him, looking at the scrolls the boy had lay on one of the many desks in Silbreith's library.

"Love you too, kid." Severus stated unrepentant. "Still sweating over these?"

"It would appear that way." Harry offered as he rubbed his eyes tiredly. It had been quite an exhausting week for the now thirteen year old boy. First, there had been the meeting with one of the directors of the Nimbus Company. Severus had been right of course; having a goblin as his financial advisor -and a very eager to please goblin from the moment he realized the wizard he was representing spoke Gobbledegook- had stopped any possible attempts to cheat him because of his age. And the company wanted his design so much, that a magical contract was soon signed; in just a few days, he had become an official designer for the Nimbus Racing Brooms and his identity was -until the moment he decided to reveal it- held secret.

There had been some pressure on that aspect of the contact the moment they realized who Harry was -the twin of the Boy Who Lived designing for them was actually quite an advertisement- but Harry kindly reminded them, much to Severus's amusement, that he could always take his broomstick elsewhere. That had effectively silenced them and now Harry had galleons overflowing in his vault and more to come since he got a hefty percentage of the sales' profit. And the Firebolt -because Thunderbolt had sounded all wrong and the company had already come up with it before they had even considered the design, keeping faith on the sky inspired names- was bound to be a hit.

"Well don't." Severus said, cutting his happy thoughts of his broomstick short. "You won't succeed anything more while you're so tired."

"I know." Harry agreed. "Sorry I was so…"

"Smarmy?" Severus asked smirking. "Ah, the joys of being a teenager!" Harry threw him a dirty look that only elicited a chuckle from the potions master.

"Whatever." That's when he allowed himself to observe Severus better; the dark circles under his eyes were quite prominent and Harry wondered why. He sure hadn't been in his lab last night as Harry left his around eleven and would have seen him as he passed by. "And you know, Minnie will probably throttle you if you don't get enough sleep too."

"Why does she never threaten to throttle  _you_ , is beyond my understanding." Severus complained sulking.

"She just likes me better." Harry said with a shrug, causing yet another smirk to appear on Severus's face. "Now spill; what's troubling you?" Severus sighed.

"I can't stop thinking of Riddle's diary." He admitted. Harry regarded him confused.

"Why?"

"Well, even if we forget about the fact that it tried to kill you…"

"Unsuccessfully." Harry offered.

"…it also defies all I know about magic." Severus continued, not minding Harry's interruption.

"Well, Voldemort might be a complete and utter bastard," Harry stated, "but he's a smart bastard nonetheless."

"I know that." Severus agreed. "But I still don't understand how it was possible to create such a diary."

"Would you mind to elaborate?" The green eyed teen asked.

"Look at it this way; the Tom Riddle you met was supposed to be a memory, correct?" Severus questioned.

"For what his word is worth, that's what he said."

"That's the thing; he  _couldn't_  have been a memory!" Severus exclaimed. "At least not just a memory."

"How so?" Harry asked intrigued.

"I'm not saying that memories can not be trapped inside inanimate objects." Severus clarified. "Pensives are a testimony that such a magical object is within a skilled wizard's capabilities. But the memories held in objects like that are just memories; just that. Echoes of the past, with no free will of their own. And certainly you won't ever see someone feeding of the life force of a person and jump out a Pensive!"

"I see what you mean." Harry said thoughtfully. "So, if he wasn't a memory, what was he?" Severus expression turned grim.

"That's just the problem; I have no idea." Harry nodded gravely; he hated it when Severus had no idea of what was going on. Some instinctive part of him always believed that Severus had the answers to all of his questions and he guessed that would never change.

"And that's what's been keeping you up at nights?"

"Well that and the subject of memories in general." Harry's brow furrowed. Hadn't they had a similar conversation last summer?

"Have we talked about this in the past?" He asked the potions master who just smiled at the question.

"Of course you would remember." He stated affectionately.

"Weren't we talking about Pensives then too?" Harry asked, fighting back the intense feeling of déjà vu that gripped him. "After I had made my first operational broomstick, wasn't it? Last summer?"

"Yes, I believe it was." Severus agreed. "And I also believe that I said I would require your help when I had finished thinking about it." Harry smiled.

"I remember that too." He was already beginning to feel excited. "So, what were you thinking about?"

"Remember how we said that making a Pensive takes an unbelievable amount of time?" Severus asked.

"Yeah, I do." Harry nodded in agreement.

"Well, I've been thinking; the trouble with Pensives is that they demand powerful magic to hold all these memories inside and to be able to call forth any memory, no matter how old or forgotten." The potions master explained.

"I'm with you so far."

"But what if you only wanted to store a memory that was only just in the making?" Severus asked animatedly. "If you wanted to record and store something that was only just happening?"

"Like that Muggle invention?" Harry asked interested. He was always interested in Muggle inventions but magic of any sort overcharged them. "How's it called? Oh, a video camera?"

"Why yes!" Severus confirmed. "In theory it should be much easier to design than a Pensive and I have already found some enchantments that might just work."

"And how can I help?" Harry asked confused.

"Well, I can deal with the aspect of how the images can be recorded and reproduced; I'm thinking of some type of potion and maybe, oh, a couple of dozen charms." Severus stated.

"Sounds easy." Harry commented sarcastically.

"Never claimed it would be." Severus winked. "I was wondering if you could come up with a way to contain the memory; a vessel of some sort. Between the two of us, you're the one the one with blacksmith tendencies."

"True enough." Harry agreed.

"So?" Severus asked. "What do you say?"

"Oh I'm in!" Harry said waving his hand in a very 'that was obvious' gesture.

"That's my boy!" Severus exclaimed, wiping an imaginary tear from the corner of his eyes, smiling all the while. "Any ideas?" He asked, looking at the concentrated look on Harry's face.

"I was thinking of Remebralls actually… I might have to right to Neville to ask him a thing or two. Maybe he could send his Remembrall over if he still has it." The green eyed boy declared, his mind travelling back to his first year at Hogwarts. Severus smiled.

The summer weeks flew by and mid August found Harry and Severus in Bulgaria. They had spent their days travelling around the Balkans, Severus going crazy over the abundance of magical flora in the area. They had just left the Rhodope Mountains and the Trigrad Gorge behind then and were currently staying at the other side of the country, at the city of Vratsa. Harry couldn't have been more excited; they had already seen the Vratsa Vultures in a game, an experience they would repeat a few days later, just before they left for England. And on top of that, the newest edition of the  _Which Broomstick_  was out. And on the top of the list, described as the best broomstick in the market and advertised as the choice of national teams for next year's Quidditch World Cup, was the Firebolt.

"Now that's something." Severus commended, shining with pride as he read the article that accompanied the picture. Harry had turned beet red.

"I never thought it would be such a hit, not really." He admitted; he knew it was a good broomstick, great even, but the selected broomstick for the World Cup? He honestly hadn't seen that one coming.

"I had. Congratulations, Harry."

"Thanks, Dad." Harry offered, smiling as wide as humanly possible, his eyes locked at the picture of the Firebolt on the page. Another thing he hadn't expected was his family's reaction to his creation.

"Did you see it, James?" Sirius asked, practically drooling over the very same issue of the  _Which Broomstick_  the week before school started.

"See what?" Prongs asked, looking up from his copy of the  _Daily Prophet_.

" _It_ , James!" He stated with wild eyes and pushed the magazine he was holding towards his friend as Harry tried to look absorbed in his cereal. "The new broomstick from Nimbus Company."

"There's a Nimbus Two Thousand and Three?" Adrian asked interested, moving closer to look at the magazine. "Malfoy's going to flip when he hears about it!"

"No, this one is outside of the regular Nimbus line." Sirius clarified as James and Adrian began to read the article. "It's called the Firebolt."

"It can go from zero to one hundred and fifty miles per hour in ten seconds?" James asked amazed as he read the article in question.

"It says here that there's one on display at Quality Quidditch Supplies in Diagon Alley." Adrian said, his eyes gleaming. "Can we go see it?"

"Of course we can!" Sirius offered. "It says it will be out in the market sometime in November. Come see, Harry!"

"I've already seen the broomstick up close." Harry stated, earning awed looks from his family. "What?" He asked.

"Where did you see it?" Sirius asked reverently.

"Did you forget that I applied for work at the Nimbus Company during the summer?" Harry asked; he had told his family that he hadn't gotten the job after all, deciding to start next year instead. "I was there when they brought the Firebolt in."

"Did you touch it?" Adrian asked with a dreamy look. Harry tried not to laugh.

"Actually I did; I believe it was the prototype too." That wasn't a lie either; Harry had kept the prototype for himself. Severus insisted it would cost a fortune one day, so it was now decorating the wall of his bedroom back at Severus's castle. Harry was actually in the process of creating a Seeker's edition for the Firebolt, giving it that extra touch; it wasn't really difficult now that the basic design was perfected.

"You. Touched. The  _prototype_?" Sirius squeaked.

"Yep!" Harry simply said as he took his now empty plate to the sink, leaving Sirius to hyperventilate in peace and James with Adrian to try and calm him down. Things only got worse when they actually visited Diagon Alley and they managed to get a close look; Lily had to intervene before James and Sirius ran into the shop and ordered two Firebolts, while Adrian and Ron -who had met with them at the Leaky Cauldron so they could get the school supplies for the next year- were looking at the broomstick stupefied.

Harry, who had almost toppled over watching the crowd that surrounded the window and the fact that the Firebolt was the only broom on display, idly wondered what would happen should James and Sirius buy the broomsticks and then find out who had designed them; it probably wouldn't be so pretty, he imagined. Hermione had to come and pull her two friends away from the window to go on with their shopping; she was holding her new giant, ginger cat, Crookshanks -half kneazle, Harry noted- and she was decided to not waste any more time ogling a broom.

Harry had made a small stop as they walked back to the shops to pick up Neville from the Leaky Cauldron. They chatted animatedly over their holidays before rejoining the small group waiting out of them at the apothecary.

The visit to Flourish and Blotts had been another highlight of their shopping trip. Harry had selected Care of Magical Creatures along with Ron and his brother but instead of Divination, he opted for Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. A few letters exchanged over the summer had persuaded Neville to exchange Divination with Ancient Runes, a subject he had wanted to take but had been certain he would fail at before Harry managed to persuade him otherwise. Hermione on the other hand, had picked each and every subject available and Harry just couldn't see how she was to attend every class without a time-turner.

The shock of the day however came when they went to buy their Care of Magical Creatures book; the  _Monster Book of Monsters_  lived up to its title and Harry was surprised to see it was the same book Hagrid had gotten for him an Adrian for their birthdays; the book had only come with the inscription that it would prove useful and now the green eyed wizard understood why. The manager of the shop almost burst into tears when Neville, Ron and Hermione asked for three copies.

The days passed in a relative calm after that; Sirius looked smug about something he was supposed to be keeping a surprise and Harry hoped he hadn't gone and ordered a Firebolt or something. Joking apart, he'd rather his family didn't have to spend that kind of money -no matter how much they had- on something he had made. But other than that, life continued as normal.

Harry was sketching the main outline of the device Severus was planning on creating; it was a bit tricky, considering he had never worked with glass before but, in this instance, transparency was a must. A quick glance at his bedside clock informed him of the hour being well over midnight and he sighed, not understanding where time had flew off to again. He was just about to get under the covers and call it a night when hasty footsteps echoed in the house, a couple of floors beneath him; James's office he guessed. Then came the frantic voices, muffled by the distance and the objects between their source and the young wizard but enough to arouse his curiosity and even alarm him a little.

Not wasting another second, Harry silently slipped from his bed and made his way down towards the voices; the manor was dark, but the soft light coming from the lit fireplace and the light coming from the partially open office door was enough to let him see where he was going. He stopped just around the corner and listened carefully, trying not to make a sound. And it was his conscious effort to remain silent that prevented him from gasping when he heard the reason of the commotion.

"… not how he escaped." Sirius's voice echoed in the hallway.

"But it should be impossible." Lily protested, the shock evident in her voice. "The wards around his cage alone should have…"

"They hadn't updated the anti-transformation wards Lily." Remus's tired voice interrupted her. "Merlin knows why, but they hadn't."

"Because Fudge is a complete moron, that's why!" James exclaimed. "Peter is dangerous, the reason my sons were almost killed and a confirmed animagus! How could they  _not_  secure the wards?" Harry froze; Peter? As in Peter Pettigrew? He had once seen a picture of the man in a newspaper, all the photographs of him in his younger years destroyed or thrown away from the Potter house. The small, beady eyes and plump face Harry remembered were the opposite of what you expected from a devout Death Eater. Maybe just what you expected of a traitor. And he was out of Azkaban?

"It doesn't take a genius to guess what he will do next." Sirius stated darkly.

"You think he'll be after Adrian?" Lily asked frightened; Harry had never heard his mother so scared. It was unnerving to say the least.

"What else could he do?" Remus asked. "If he just stays hidden, the Ministry will eventually locate him, unless he spends the rest of his life as a rat. But even if he does try that, in the case were Voldemort returns, even his animagus form will not save him from the Dark Lord's wrath."

"So you're saying he's just trying to save his hide?" Sirius asked outraged.

"Has he ever done anything else?" James wondered out loud. Silence followed his words as everyone in the room contemplated the implications of this latest development. It was a small comfort, but it was times like these when Harry was the happiest he had stayed in the shadows and let his brother assume the title of the Boy Who Lived. Not that he'd rather stay safe when Adrian was in danger, no; he just chose not to fool himself. When a Death Eater was out for revenge -especially this specific Death Eater who would go to great lengths just to stay safe- he would go for the weaker target; logically that would be the other brother.

Almost snorting on how that sounded, Harry considered the odds; if Adrian was in his place, he would have, most likely, been untrained. He would have been a sitting duck as the Muggles so eloquently put it. Now he would be under constant watch while Harry was in place to defend himself, or at least distract his assailant for long enough to make a run for his life.

"What now?" Sirius asked resigned.

"We keep the searches going." James said. "We keep looking and we of course reinforce the defences of Hogwarts." That seemed the best option at the time, the green eyed wizard thought. "It's lucky you'll be the Defence teacher this year Padfoot." So  _that's_  what had him smiling all summer. Harry nodded in approval; Sirius might generally seem like he had no care in the world, but he at least knew the subject he was about to teach.

"With the searches going on, I don't know how I will juggle everything." The dog animagus admitted.

"You have to go!" Lily shouted. "Adrian will need all the help he can get…" That had stung a little. It was as if they truly thought Harry wouldn't be affected.

"And I will go." Sirius assured her, sounding more mature than he had ever heard him. "I'm just saying I will also be required to help in the searches; I'm second in command of the Aurors Lily and I knew Peter once." He reminded her. Now that was a fine point if Harry had ever heard one.

"I might be able to help with that." Remus offered.

"How?"

"Considering the situations, I could take over half of the classes." Moony supplied. "That way one of us will always be at Hogwarts."

"Could you do that?" James asked somewhat calmer.

"Fudge is in no point to deny such a request at the moment." Remus simply stated.

"I don't know." Lily muttered. "Maybe we should keep the boys here this year, have them homeschooled…" Harry cringed at the prospect.

"Lily!" James exclaimed. " _My_  sons will never hide from the likes of…"

"They're  _my_  sons too!" The red head shouted back. Remus and Sirius intervened before the argument evolved into a full blown shouting match.

"Shouting won't solve anything." Sirius authoritative voice -Harry didn't know his godfather had one- sounded clear.

"Besides Lily," Remus reasoned "Hogwarts has Dumbledore and ancient wards that actually work."

"Last year it also had a basilisk and two years ago Voldemort himself." Lily countered.

"The basilisk was killed by your own son Lily." True, Harry thought. "And it was a teacher that brought Voldemort in; the only new professors this year will be me and Remus." Sirius reminded her. "The boys will not be safer here; Hogwarts is our best chance, as always."

"I still don't like it." Lily stated, not ready to admit defeat.

"What else can we do Lils?" James asked softly. "I have to join the searches and even if you took a year off, we wouldn't be able to secure Adrian wouldn't be attacked here." There it was again, Harry thought; they really didn't expect him to be attacked. Unreasonably  _naïve_.

"Both your sons will be safer at Hogwarts." Remus stated and Harry felt his hear warm a little more for his honorary uncle.

"And they will be able to keep on living their lives too, at least at a semblance of normality." Sirius added. "I mean, can you imagine Adrian without Ron and Hermione for a year, or Harry away from Neville and Hogwarts? The kid  _loves_  it there!" Thank you for that Padfoot, the green eyed wizard thought smiling softly.

"I know, Sirius." Lily admitted after a soft pause. "I just don't like it; it seems there's danger everywhere."

"We knew ever since we heard that Prophecy that it would be that way." James said. "At least until Voldemort is gone for good." The silence was deafening after that comment.

"Well at least in Hogwarts there's Minerva." Sirius stated trying to lighten the mood.

"Minerva, Padfoot?" Remus asked confused.

"Yeah." The dog animagus affirmed barking out a laugh. "She was one of the first that reached Azkaban you know, after the escape."

"What?" Lily asked confusion colouring her voice. "Why?"

"She was the one that had placed the original wards on Peter's cage, wasn't she?" James noted.

"Yes and she had left them with clear instructions on what to do after that, how to keep refreshing them." Sirius provided. "I wasn't there when it happened but I heard she was furious; no one even dared to approach her as she stormed back to Hogwarts, even if she had technically assaulted a dozen of the Ministry's officers. Mate, I  _wish_  I had been there for that…" Some soft chuckles were heard and Harry figured he had heard enough.

He returned to his room lost in thought and, not knowing what else to do, pulled out a piece of parchment and a quill; he wouldn't see Severus for a couple of days and he couldn't not write him of what had happened, even though he probably knew already. He waited for Hedwig to come back from her hunt before giving her the letter. He watched as her white form faded away in the night. Even as he returned to his bed, Harry knew there would be no sleep for him that night; there would only be more wondering of how the school year would end up this time.

 


	36. You Call This Safe?

As Harry had expected, Severus knew of Pettigrew's escape, having been informed the very same night it had happened. His fury was even worse than what he had witnessed from James the day he told him and Adrian of Peter's escape and that said something. On the bright side, Harry thought as he watched a raving Severus pacing up and down the grand fireplace hall of Silbreith, he had possibly just enriched his vocabulary in Gobbledegook.

"I can't believe the sheer idiocy of that moron we have for a Minister." The potions master seethed for what seemed the tenth time in an hour.

"Many people can't." Harry assured him. Severus continued unaffected.

"Checking the wards?" He asked nobody in specific. "Why would he care to do that? It's not as if an Animagus might try to escape using his animal form, no!" Harry, who was admittedly amused by the display, tried to calm him down.

"Well, we could talk about the lengths of Fudge's idiocy for hours and never reach a conclusion, or you can take a few deep breaths and try to think of something that won't give you a heart attack." Severus shot him a dirty look but forced himself to sit down on an armchair.

"There." He stated darkly. "Happy?"

"Exhilarated." Harry answered dryly. "Your pacing was giving me a headache." He tried to keep the humour off his voice as the potions master sighed.

"Sorry for that." He apologised. "It just all seems too stupid to have actually happened."

"I think it actually happened because it is that stupid." Harry stated as Severus regarded him thoughtfully. "It's usually stupid things that cause the greater damage, I mean." Severus nodded.

"You're right, of course." He admitted. "And with Fudge, we had been lucky something hasn't happened sooner."

"We're lucky the rest of the Death Eaters arrested are still in Azkaban." Harry noted ruefully. "But this shouldn't be your greatest concern." He added slyly.

"What do you mean?" Severus asked confused. "Are there more psychologically disturbed murderers out there I should be looking for?"

"Well, I thought you would be preoccupied with the new Defence professors this year." Harry stated impishly; his grin only widened at Severus's confusion.

"There will be more than one?" The potions master asked.

"Hasn't Dumbledore said anything?"

"He said it still wasn't certain, that he was still looking for a new professor." Severus stated carefully. "Do you know something I don't?"

"They didn't joke when they said it would be a surprise then." Harry said chuckling.

"Are you planning on sharing that information with me?" Severus asked annoyed.

"I could just let you suffer, but I feel merciful this evening." Harry stated, fully knowing he had intended to tell him all along; his reaction would be too priceless to not witness plus, he didn't much enjoy seeing him worry himself to death. He ducked swiftly as a pillow zoomed towards his head. "If you act like that, I might change my mind." He warned Severus.

"Fine, I'll behave; now out with it."

"Sirius was to be the new Defence professor but, since he had to take part in the search for Pettigrew too, he will split his classes with Remus." Harry had heard the decision being confirmed just a night ago, Remus having been right that Fudge would agree to anything in order to try and patch up the situation. "So, what do you have to say about that, Sev?" The green eyed teen asked. Severus had gone completely still. For a second there, Harry wondered if he was even breathing. Turned out that he was, if the rant that followed was to be taken into account.

" _Black_?" He asked in terror. "A  _teacher_? Who in their right mind would make him a teacher?" And he went on like that for some good ten minutes, until he ran out of reasons why Sirius should never be allowed in a classroom. Harry wondered if these two would ever work things out; some part of him thought that if they did, they might actually turn out to be great friends; deep down, they had the same temperament it seemed, even if the potions master had a much superior impulse control. Maybe when he and Severus wouldn't have to hide anymore.

"It's going to be interesting." Harry stated. Severus's eyes narrowed to slits as he picked up a pillow from the couch. Harry back-tracked cautiously. "Now Dad, let's not be hasty here…"

"I'll show you interesting." Severus stated ominously. And it was with a great pillow fight that the two wizards said their farewells to the summer holidays.

Next morning found Harry pushing his trunk up the Hogwarts Express with some help from Sirius. He and Adrian had been cautioned over and over about how they should watch their every move while at Hogwarts. The dog Animagus and the werewolf boarded the train with them, having finally let them in on the secret of who would be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts that year officially. Harry pretended to be surprised, while Adrian was over the moon. His mood dampened considerably however after their mother forbid them from visiting Hogsmeade along with the rest of their year.

"It's necessary." She had insisted. "With Peter on the loose, we can't take chances." Harry understood the reasoning behind her actions, but couldn't really help but wonder if it was necessary. As it had become apparent, the Minister had appointed extra security to patrol the grounds; the nature of said security was still unknown. It wasn't Aurors, as James had informed them; the Minister said it was all taken care of and, even if coming from him that wasn't truly reassuring, he had probably deployed the Unspeakables. Harry always wondered what the Unspeakables did as they, honouring their name, didn't speak about it. Maybe he would find out this year, he thought as he sat in the same compartment with his brother, Ron and Hermione, the two new professors, Neville and Ginny.

The youngest Weasley seemed more demure and quiet than she had remembered her being on the last train ride, but that was only to be expected considering she had been possessed by the memory of the Dark Lord for a large part of her first year; maybe she was remembering what had happened last year or how she had started writing in the diary? Either way, not even the brief look of distaste Malfoy directed their way as he passed by with his cronies -not daring to try anything with Remus and Sirius in the compartment- managed to get a reaction out of her, though it was something that would have at least made her blush a year ago.

"So, how did you like Egypt?" Remus asked an hour into their journey, pulling Harry's attention from Neville's description of his newly acquired, and admittedly interesting, plant.

"Ginny loved it…" Ron commented.

"I did."

"… But I found it awfully  _hot_. I mean the tombs were wicked and so was the magical community of Cairo but the bloody sand…"

"Language, Ron!" Hermione cautioned.

"I get what you mean though." Sirius admitted. "James and I trained in Egypt for a few months back when we were in the academy and I can assure you it's hot, especially during the summer." I liked it, Harry thought.

"That's not the most important question at the moment." Ginny commented a soft smile on her lips, even if it did not completely reach her eyes. Harry wondered what she meant as everyone turned to look at her.

"And what would the most important question be, Miss Weasley?" Remus asked well naturedly.

"I was simply wondering how you two feel as the new professors in the school." She asked innocently; the green eyed wizard watched her curiously with the corner of his eyes; something told him she hadn't made her point yet.

"It's going to be weird for sure." Sirius declared. "I mean, most of the professors were  _our_  teachers too."

"But now you're going to be working together, on even ground." Ginny stated, nodding as if she understood perfectly what Sirius meant. "You're going to be equals in a way, working together and stuff."

"Exactly that." Sirius agreed. "I'll be the first one to admit I still have trouble calling Professor Dumbledore, Albus."

"I still have trouble calling McGonagall, Minerva." Remus admitted.

"Imagine, working together with her!" Sirius stated awed, as if had never considered the prospect.

"Or with Flitwick!" Remus added.

"Or with Professor Snape." Ginny offered innocently, making Sirius and Remus cringe and stare at her, a look of horror etched in their faces. Harry was just about to break out laughing as she spoke again. "Everybody knows that the Potions' and Defence's professors always worked closely. Well, except  _Lockhart_  but…" She simply shrugged and Harry waited for the explosion; Sirius didn't disappoint.

"Dumbledore failed to mention  _that_!" He was breathing deeply and gripping the armrests of his seat as Remus tried to calm him down; Ginny just sat back and pulled open her Spells textbook humming while the rest of the students in the compartment stared at her as if they had never seen her before.

"That, Miss Weasley," Harry stated "either marks you as a genius or as plain evil." Sirius was still hyperventilating, swearing he would never work closely with any greasy git, let alone show one respect.

"Can't we call me an evil mastermind and leave it to that?" She asked impishly as Harry chuckled and her brother stared at her in awe. She chuckled once more and sighed contently, watching her brother laughing. Ron had been a little down too, from what he had seen of him during the summer and had been watching his little sister as if she might disappear as long as they had been on the train, the green eyed wizard noted. Maybe that's what this had been about?

"Spending time with the twins?" Harry asked interested.

"So it would seem, Mr. Potter." She answered.

"And if it is ever expected of me to help him with something, with  _anything_ ," Sirius continued with his rant "I swear I'll…" He never managed to finish his sentence as the train began slowing down.

"Great, I'm starving." Ron stated as he looked out the window trying to discern the school in the distance.

"That's new." Sirius commented still a little flustered.

"We can't be there yet." Said Neville looking at his pocket watch, a birthday gift from Harry.

"So why're we stopping?" The train was getting slower and slower. As the noise of the pistons fell away, the wind and rain sounded louder than ever against the windows. Harry, who was nearest to the door, got up to look into the corridor. All along the carriage, heads were sticking curiously out of their compartments. The train came to a halt with a jolt, and distant thuds and bangs told them that luggage had fallen out of the racks. Then, without warning, all the lamps went out and they were plunged into total darkness.

"I can't see a thing!" Adrian complained.

"What's going on?" said Ron's voice from behind Harry.

"Ouch!" gasped Hermione. "Ron, that was my foot!" Harry felt his way back to his seat walking with more ease than anyone as his night vision kicked in.

"Oy! That was mine!" Ginny exclaimed as her brother tried to stop injuring the people around him.

"For Merlin's shake, Ron!" Neville exclaimed as Ron failed in his attempts.

"Calm down everyone!" Remus called and used the  _Lumos_  spell to light up the compartment. Sirius, Adrian and Harry instantly followed his example and, once everyone could again see, they tried to understand what had exactly happened.

"D'you think we've broken down?"

"Dunno." Adrian answered his friend.

"Maybe I should go and ask the driver what has happened." Hermione said, looking at the two professors for permission.

"I'm not sure you should start running around the train at this moment, Hermione." Sirius commented, looking at the suddenly humidity-covered windows somewhat shaken. He shared a look with an equally confused Remus and cocked an eyebrow. Harry failed to grasp the finer points of their communication system but it seems that the werewolf didn't share his problem.

"Oh, he wouldn't…" He stated disbelieving.

"He's proven he's stupid enough." Sirius countered as Neville tried to look out of the compartment, carefully stepping over Crookshanks to peer at the rest of the train.

"Everything's gone dark out there." He informed them.

"There's something moving out there," Ron said looking out the window. "I think people are coming aboard…"

"What?" Sirius asked, pressing hid face against the glass. Harry saw them too. Tall, far too tall to be human, cloaked figures entered the train. They looked like shadows and the way they moved left the green eyed boy with the impression they were gliding over the ground. The temperature dropped just a little more and Harry felt his chest constrict. Suddenly, an image of bright flames in an underground chamber filled his mind;  _the screams of a dying man and his brother unconscious on the ground._  Harry gulped trying to shove the guilt down; he hadn't thought of Quirrell's death in months.  _Voldemort sliding over the forest floor towards Adrian, silver blood dripping from his lips while he stood petrified._

"What's going on?" Asked Adrian, his wand drawn out too; his hand was trembling. "Who are these people?"  _Ginny pale and unmoving on the floor in the Chamber of Secrets._

"They're not people." Sirius spat. He didn't have to elaborate; the chill in the room evolved into frost and the door slammed open once more. The tall figure standing in front of them was one of those that had just boarded the train; with the screams of a man he had killed echoing in his mind, it took Harry a few seconds to realize he was facing one of the guardians of Azkaban. The Dementor slid forward and Harry barely managed to get a glance of a slimy hand before it was pulled away. And then the Dementor drew a long, rattling breath. And the screams tripled. Quirrel was burning and Harry was killing him over and over again; his brother was in danger; Ginny was dying. The basilisk was attacking. The cold seeped deeper. His vision blurred.

"None of us is hiding Peter Pettigrew under our cloaks!" Remus called and Harry faintly registered him pointing his wand at the cloaked figure. _Expecto Patronus_ , he bellowed and a silver form, a wolf or a very large dog, erupted from its tip, chasing the Dementor away. Suddenly the screams were just an echo before they faded completely. Harry shook his head, as if trying to expel the last trace of his thoughts and stole glances at Neville, his brother and Ginny; all three were pale and shaken but decisively alive.

"Dementors, really!" Sirius seethed as he turned towards the startled teenagers behind him. "Are you all okay?"

" _Okay_  wouldn't be the word I'd use to describe how I feel right now." Harry worded through clenched teeth, trying to stand up straight; it was terribly hard, he discovered, when he was trembling still.

"Try bloody awful!" Adrian supplied and Harry shook his head in agreement looking down at his brother, having allowed his normal height steadily show over the summer; he couldn't have described it better if he tried.

"What  _was_  that thing?" Hermione exclaimed, eyeing the door scared; the lights had come back on, Harry realised and, before anybody managed to answer, the train started moving again.

"One of the Dementors of Azkaban." Remus explained, startling everyone with cutting a large bar of chocolate into pieces. Does he always carry chocolate with him? The green eyed wizard wondered; it seemed like a good idea.

"They guard the prison." Sirius elaborated as he accepted Remus's offering of chocolate. "What you felt was their ability to suck out everything that's good and happy out of you while bringing your darkest memories up at the same time. It's how they keep prisoners subdued." Harry knew all that already; he had read about Dementors long ago. And that spell Remus had cast? He knew that too. But magic had been the last thing on his mind when the actual creature stepped - _slid_ \- inside the compartment. He was just frozen again, just as he had been in the forest almost two years ago, just as he had promised himself he'd never be again.

"But what were they doing here?" Ginny asked, biting down on her piece of chocolate, trying to regain some semblance of calm; Harry's heart -the part that wasn't still clenching and unclenching painfully- went out to her. Merlin knows how she felt after everything that had happened last year. And Neville, he realised, sitting closer to his friend and squeezing his shoulder comfortingly. With his past and his parents' condition -a detail of his life he had tentatively shared with Harry over the summer- the boy was shaking visibly.

Harry took a moment to get a better look of his friend; Neville had gotten taller too and some of the baby fat on his face was gone. He was still shaking but seemed to be faring better than he would have had this happened in the beginning of last year, Harry thought as his friend grinned at him tentatively.

"They're Fudge's idea of security; he wants to get Peter almost as much as we do." Sirius informed them, answering Ginny's question while munching on his chocolate; Harry followed his example, thanking Remus's addiction as warmth returned to his body.

"Is he that dangerous?" Neville spoke softly, looking at his hands.

"Yes." Remus answered laconically. "But what interests the Minister more is his reputation; the story of  _how_  Pettigrew escaped has gotten out; nothing tarnishes your reputation more than forgetting to check on the wards of an infamous criminal."

It was in that gloomy atmosphere that they entered the castle; more Dementors were stationed at the school's entrance and even the Thestrals seemed affected. A blond girl, a Ravenclaw, Harry noted, stared at the general direction of the horse-like creatures confused, almost as if she could see their unusual reaction too. But then again, her look seemed so faraway that Harry just shrugged it off; Maybe he was imagining things. Ginny on the other hand, looked at the girl in thought for a second, before smiling softly and approaching her, saying hello and getting into the same carriage with her. They must both be second-years, Harry concluded and turned his attention back to Neville.

The feast was much more demure than usual; even the Headmaster had lost that cheery feel he radiated at the beginning of every term and Severus looked right down murderous. The two wizards shared a look and Harry could practically feel the tirade coming; the teen entertained the idea of locking Fudge and Severus in the same room for an hour and then return to collect the pieces. At least that managed to put a smile on his face. The two new Defence professors were greeted with loud applause, the older female students eyeing Sirius appreciatively.

But the greatest surprise came when Dumbledore announced it would be Hagrid who would take over teaching Care of Magical creatures as the previous teacher, Professor Silvanus Kettleburn, had apparently retired in an effort to preserve his remaining one and a half limbs. The former professor had been quite renowned around the school for having survived no fewer than sixty-two periods of probation during his employment and the green eyed wizard was pretty sure Hagrid would live up to that reputation.

"We should've known!" Ron roared, pounding the table. "Who else would have assigned us a biting book?" There was more than some truth in that statement, Harry thought as he cheered for his giant friend, laughing as Neville predicted they would soon be raising griffins in class. The five teenagers even approached Hagrid later on, congratulating him for his new post.

"All down ter you three," said Hagrid, wiping his shining face on his napkin as he looked up at them; Harry tried not to roll his eyes as the moved professor thanked his brother and his friends. He couldn't help thinking that it would be nice if his help was recognized for once but pushed such thoughts away reminding himself that one, Hagrid couldn't have known of his involvement and two, something good had come out of it anyway. "Can' believe it… great man, Dumbledore… came straight down to me hut after Professor Kettleburn said he'd had enough… It's what I always wanted…" They were at that point shooed away by Professor McGonagall, who directed them to their Dormitory.

The next morning brought the distribution of the new schedules; and while Harry's was slightly more cramped than his brother's, Hermione's took the cake. The green eyed wizard read it over her shoulder in an attempt to understand how she was going to cramp everything in; because, according to her program, at nine that morning she had Divination with Adrian and Ron, Arithmancy with himself and Muggle Studies. The only way she could ever manage something like that, Harry realized, was if she had a Timeturner but… He eyed the bushy haired girl exasperated; trust Hermione to get a Timeturner and use it for schoolwork. That would explain her impromptu meeting with Professor McGonagall before the feast last night.

"But why would you be taking Muggle Studies, Hermione?" Ginny, who had just received her own schedule from George, asked confused. "You  _are_ Muggle-born after all." Harry nodded absentmindedly at Ginny's logic as he filled his plate with some pancakes that looked exceedingly inviting and lightly conversing with Neville on their Ancient Runes textbook.

"I know." Hermione stated brightly. "But it will be fascinating to see it from a wizard's point of view." Ginny regarded her intently.

"Well, prepare to spend a year reading papers on the suspected function of a rubber duck. You have an idea there, but the first two years are basically introduction to the Muggle culture." She said and turned her attention to breakfast.

Harry's theory on Hermione having acquired a Timeturner was proved right when, after seeing her leaving with his brother and Ron for Divination, he found her seated in Arithmancy class waiting for Professor Vector. The green eyed teen filed that information for later use; you never know when you'll need a Timeturner.

The class was quite interesting -even if Harry had covered much more than the basics of his own- and less crowded than what he was used to, with only six students attending. And if one excepted his impulse to add broomstick-making in the list of magical studies where Arithmancy is used given by the professor, he found it quite uneventful. Much more pleasant than Divination must have been, he figured while observing Adrian's dark expression and the furtive looks the class directed to him, later during their Transfiguration lesson.

The lesson was on Animagi and Harry had found it more than interesting, especially because he was one. He was one of the few that paid attention as Professor McGonagall turned into a tabby cat and back into herself. Even she was surprised at the lack of reaction it seemed because she didn't waste time to address the classroom;

"Really, what has got into you all today?" said Professor McGonagall staring around at them all. "Not that it matters, but that's the first time my transformation's not got applause from a class." Everybody's heads turned toward Adrian again, but nobody spoke. Harry looked at his brother expectantly and with no little amount of worry; what could have possibly happened that caused them all to look like they would drop dead any second now? She shared a look with Neville who simply shrugged, appearing just as mystified by their classmates' actions. Then Hermione raised her hand.

"Please, Professor, we've just had our first Divination class, and we were reading the tea leaves, and…"

"Ah, of course," said Professor McGonagall, suddenly frowning. Harry wondered what could have made so much sense about that statement; Severus never spoke of Professor Trelawney, mostly because she was the one to make the prophecy about him and Voldemort; in a way, the potions master had never forgiven her for that just as he had never quite forgiven himself. He had of course admitted that it was illogical to hate her for something she had no control over and that he would probably be alright with it if only she had chosen to fight and not hide in the shadows during the first war. "There is no need to say any more, Miss Granger." McGonagall interrupted his thoughts. "Tell me, which of you will be dying this year?" Everyone stared at her.

"Me," said Adrian, finally. What?

"I see," said Professor McGonagall, fixing Adrian, who was seated at the far side of the classroom, with an intense gaze. "Then you should know, Potter, that Sibyll Trelawney has predicted the death of one student a year since she arrived at this school. None of them has died yet. Seeing death omens is her favourite way of greeting a new class. If it were not for the fact that I never speak ill of my colleagues…" Professor McGonagall broke off, and they saw that her nostrils had gone white; that's right, Harry thought. The staff of the school couldn't have known that she had made the prophecy; come to think of it, most didn't even know of the prophecy. She went on, more calmly, "Divination is one of the most imprecise branches of magic. I shall not conceal from you that I have very little patience with it. True Seers are very rare, and Professor Trelawney…" She stopped again, and then said, in a very matter-of-fact tone, "You look in excellent health to me, Potter, so you will excuse me if I don't let you off homework today. I assure you that if you die, you need not hand it in."

The rest of the class went by normally but Ron's fear hadn't been quenched it seemed. The moment the bell rang, he was right next to Adrian, wondering if the Divination professor had truly seen the Grim in his teacup. Harry snorted the moment he realized what had happened.

"It's not funny mate!" Ron said indignantly as they sat at the Gryffindor table for dinner. "My… my uncle Bilius saw one and… and he died twenty-four hours later!" Harry tried to intervene but Hermione beat him to it.

"Coincidence," said she airily, pouring herself some pumpkin juice.

"You don't know what you're talking about!" said Ron, starting to get angry. "Grims scare the living daylights out of most wizards!"

"There you are, then," said Hermione in a superior tone. "They see the Grim and die

of fright. The Grim's not an omen, it's the cause of death! And Adrian's still with us because he's not stupid enough to see one and think, right, well, I'd better kick the bucket then!"

"As interesting this argument has been," Harry said as he served himself some peas and passing the pumpkin juice to Neville next to him, "I believe it's also quite pointless."

"What do you mean?" Adrian asked, a little exasperated, mostly of Ron and Hermione's argument.

"I mean, that if Grims truly were omens of death, you and I both would have kicked the bucked, as Hermione put it, a long time ago." He added some purée in his plate too before turning to grin at Ron. "You would have been dead too." He added.

"What?" Ron asked confused.

"Why?" Questioned Hermione.

"Tell me Adrian." He said addressing his brother. "You've seen Sirius transforming into Padfoot, right?" Harry asked as his brother nodded. "And you've never wondered what type of dog he was? Even after you were old enough to realise Padfoot is almost as large as a bear?" Harry asked smirking at the stunned expressions of his brother and friends.

"Padfoot's a Grim?" Ron asked confused.

"But I thought magical animagi transformations were impossible!" Hermione exclaimed. Are they? Harry wondered interested, but let it slide for the moment.

"Yes, Padfoot is a Grim and yes, magical Animagi transformations are, as far as we know, impossible." Harry agreed. "But, while the Grims are generally shy animals, they don't possess some magical ability of their own, at least nothing profound." There were three confused sets of eyes that stared back at him so he sighed and continued his explanation. "What I meant is that Grims are  _omens_  of death. They don't have a magical ability of their own that kills a wizard upon sight. As a result, they're not more magical than owls are and  _they_  can find a wizard anywhere in the world." He cut a piece of his stake and chewed calmly.

"Well, Sirius turning into a Grim can still be useful." Ginny's voice sounded behind Harry.

"Have you been eavesdropping, Miss Weasley?" The green eyed teen asked mischievously.

"If you didn't want someone to overhear you, you shouldn't be speaking in the middle of the Great Hall during lunch." Ginny deadpanned making Neville chortle in agreement.

"True enough." Harry admitted with a smile of his own.

"And I wasn't really eavesdropping." She said. "Rumour has it that Trelawney predicted someone's death and when you started talking of Grims I figured it was one of you."

"Me, actually." Adrian supplied with a frown.

"And why would Padfoot be useful?" Ron asked as Harry noticed the smirk forming on Ginny's face.

"I just thought that, with all that talk of Grims, Trelawney might be interested in actually seeing one." Laughter spread over the group and Harry realized Sirius might just agree with that plan, professor or not.

 


	37. Deepest Fears And Attacks

" _Dementors_." Severus spat, looking at his lit fireplace. "Fudge gets even stupider every time I turn my back, I swear." Harry just nodded dutifully; this wasn't the first time the potions master ranted over what a fool the Minister was and it was painfully obvious it wouldn't be the last. In the course of just one month, these rants had become a part of the teen's everyday life; and it didn't help that Severus's spirits had been considerably dampened after a not so charming incident that involved Sirius, green hair dye and a failed prank that was supposed to take place on the first day of classes.

Severus had only managed to dodge that one because Harry had overheard his godfather telling of the prank to an exasperated Remus; the green eyed teen had sprinted to Severus's office and had barely managed to inform him of what Padfoot had planned before he headed to the shower. Sirius had been disappointed of course and Severus had glared the rest of the day, while Harry was laughing at both their expenses with Neville with whom he had shared the secret.

Neville, as Harry had happily started to expect from him, kept coming out from his shell more and more and, without realising it, had helped the green eyed wizard open up more as a result. It was at his utmost surprise when he found himself talking about Severus and Minnie to Neville, even though he had yet to mention Silbreith itself, as if he had been used to talking about his life with ease. And for the first time since he could remember, it wasn't Adrian he wanted to tell his secret to the most. Sometimes he lay in his bed at night, wishing he could share what was on his mind with his best, and maybe only true, friend. And just like that, on an rainy October night, Harry had decided that, should he ever decide he could reveal his secret to somebody, that somebody would be Neville, the only other person outside Severus and the Flamels that had ever bothered to get to know him and had proven once more that friends are indeed the family you choose for yourself.

One more thing that had happened in October was probably the most exciting lesson they had ever had in Defence Against the Dark Arts. Boggarts. Harry had heard of them of course, but had never had the chance to face one. First one to go had been Neville, his boggart taking the form of himself his eyes empty and cold, his stance aloof, a smirk on his otherwise blank face. The boy had taken a deep breath and cast the spell necessary, his parallel self disappearing in a tuft of white smoke. Harry regarded him with a soft smile, elbowing him gently as he walked next to him, silently communicating with him that they could talk later; the boy smiled as Harry prepared himself for his turn.

Truth be told, he had been extremely apprehensive once he realized he would have to face a boggart. He knew what his worse fears were; failing to protect his brother, losing his loved ones, failing to react in a situation when he was needed, these he knew. And then, as he waited in line, his mind travelled to Quirrell and what he had done; with that came another fear he had tried to burry deep inside him. What if he became the man he had set to stop? A killer? It proved that all his assumptions were wrong. Because, the very moment he stepped in front of that boggart, a Dementor appeared.

And even if the feared creature ended up tangled in its own -at the moment bright pink with fake fur- cloak after a well aimed  _Riddikulus_  spell, Harry stood baffled. From all the things he thought to be afraid of, the Dementors had never crossed his mind.

The same afternoon, he had spoken to Neville, on the subject of the shape of his boggart. If he had expected something like that to happen, he would have expected it from himself and, truth be told, he had been extremely curious of what had been going through Neville's mind while he faced the shape-shifting creature. The answer had been quite disarming and had only served in strengthening the bond he had felt forming with his friend.

"I'm terrified I'll disappoint them." He had said, confusing Harry to no end as the sat down on the grass by the lake.

"Them?" He had asked, frowning as he tried to understand what the brown eyed boy meant. The answer came to his mind just as Neville had started to explain.

"My parents, my grandmother… you name it!" He exclaimed. "My parents fought in the war. You know what happened to them and now my grandmother is all the family I have left. I'm scared that I'll become what made my family what it is today." And he lowered his gaze to the floor, waiting for harry to pass his judgement. The green eyed boy had been surprised to find his eyes moist as he tried to form an answer.

"You won't, Neville." He stated firmly, remembering a similar conversation he once had with Severus. "You won't."

"But how do you know? I'm nothing special; how can you say that I won't let them down?" Harry glared at his best friend, righteous indignation bubbling in his chest.

"You're my best friend, Neville, and I won't stand to see you shunned, even by your own words." That had claimed the other boy's attention it seemed, as Neville turned his eyes to tentatively look at his friend. "You're a good guy Nev. You're a great friend and a just as great wizard and don't you even try to deny it!" He had added the last part as Neville had been ready to object. "Since you got your new wand and started training anew, you've vastly improved. And the very fact that you're worried about disappointing your family means that you probably won't."

"You think so?" The boy asked, hope shining in his eyes.

"Yes." Harry stated. "And remember, should you ever need help, you'll always have me." It was Neville's turn to tear up. The two boys sent s goofy smile to each other and then, in a classic teenage fashion, tried to deny they had ever been that touched in the first place, Neville bumping his fist on Harry's shoulder, simply stating;

"Likewise." Harry nodded once and from then on the conversation turned to Quidditch, flowing more naturally than it ever had between Harry and Adrian.

The green eyed teen had been thinking about the incident of his own boggart over and over in his head until he managed to get hold off Severus, who was in the process of taking apart a training dummy with his long-sword in his office. Severus had listened to his concerns, thought about it for a few seconds, chuckled and returned to demolishing the poor dummy leaving Harry with a;

"Smart of you kid." Apparently, what Severus had realized and -after he was thoroughly satisfied with his handiwork, leaving the once dummy unrecognizable pieces on the floor- shared with him was that his greatest fear wasn't Dementors. He's greatest fear was fear itself, thus the physical manifestation of a Dementor. And even if that had made much more sense, it still left Harry with a greater problem; said physical manifestations of his deepest fear just so happened to be patrolling the grounds of Hogwarts.

And in such a way his Patronus training had began; Severus had been more than happy to procure a boggart -having privately declared war on the whole race for an incident that refused to share with Harry, making the teen believe it had something to do with a certain dog animagus- for Harry to practice on. After a few weeks of nothing but silver mist, the form of his Patronus was finally able to chase away the fake Dementor. He had just stood back and watched with glee as the seven feet tall wolf cornered the cloaked figure before the boggart gave way and disappeared with a loud cracking sound.

"Because aurors couldn't have sufficed, no!" Severus continued with his rant. "It had to be Dementors!"

"Well, there's nothing we can do at the moment but bear it." Harry reasoned, earning a nasty glare from the potions master.

"We shouldn't have to." He simply stated as he sat opposite to Harry, still brooding.

"On lighter topics, have you heard the latest prediction of how Adrian's going to die?" Harry asked with a wide smile, trying and succeeding in pulling Severus out of his mood.

"There's been another one?"

"Oh, yeah." The green eyed teen confirmed. Besides seeing the Grim in every single tea leaves reading, Trelawney had started to leave not so subtle hints of how Adrian would actually meet his doom. "She might have mentioned something about a beheading, from what I gathered."

"Beheading?" Severus asked amused. "You can't say she doesn't have an active imagination."

"Well, of course she does." Harry declared.

"And how have your classes been going?"

"Quite well actually." Harry admitted. "If you except that almost incident with Draco on my first Care of Magical Creatures lesson, I'd say it has been going  _too_  well." Harry thought back on the first day of term when Hagrid had happily introduced them to a bunch of Hippogriffs. He thought they were exciting and for once, Harry agreed. On them being exciting that is; not on them being the first creature you'd want to introduce to third year students.

He had given them the basics, how to approach them, how to bow and then asked for a volunteer; wanting to avoid a catastrophe on Hagrid's very first lesson, Harry had stepped forward. True, he had never ridden a Hippogriff, but he was probably the only one with any horse ridding experience from the group of students. So he had bowed to a grey Hippogriff called Buckbeak and even proceeded to ride him around the grounds for a while. It would have been a blatant lie to say he hadn't enjoyed the flight; it wasn't as comfortable as ridding a horse, or even a flying horse Harry guessed -too many feathers made for no places for one to brace himself- but flying had always been nothing less than exciting.

Of course, Malfoy had to intervene, almost ruining Hagrid's first lesson; miffed that Adrian had managed to get his Hippogriff to bow back to him before Buckbeak -whom he had been assigned- did, he was seconds away from insulting the Hippogriff, a move that would have surely resulted into an assault before Harry stepped in. He had been keeping an eye on the blond, knowing in his gut that he would try and do something to mess with Haggrid's lesson; the fact that he might just injure himself in the process had never crossed his mind so it was literally his good luck that he was close enough to intervene, calming the agitated Hippogriff as he would have a horse.

Some damage however had been done, as he wasn't fast enough to prevent Buckbeak rising in his two back legs and aiming threateningly at Malfoy. Draco had spoken to his father, his father had taken the matter to the Governors and, even if they didn't do anything, Hagrid was so mortified that a student was almost hurt in one of his classes, he had actually reverted into teaching them about flobberworms, which had to be some of the most boring creatures in existence.

" _Too_  well, Harry?" Severus asked, bringing Harry back from his reminiscing.

"Excuse me?" Harry asked before he remembered what he had been talking about. "Ah, yes; too well. I'm almost expecting something to happen any moment now."

"Paranoid much?" Severus asked, trying to lighten the atmosphere. If he admitted so himself, he had done his fair share of jumping when a shadow moved while he was on patrol. He had even cursed one.

"Says the man who threw a blasting curse on a suit of armour." Harry commented dryly. And then did the mistake to tell you, Severus thought rolling his eyes.

"It was an honest mistake." He defended himself.

"And a lucky happenstance that Peeves was already destroying a classroom nearby." Severus nodded, conceding to the green eyed wizard's logic; it had saved him a lot of explaining. "I'm just getting sick of waiting for yet another madman to strike."

"Technically, the last two years we were waiting for the same madman." Severus reminded him.

"So we should take variety as a nice change?  _More_  madmen instead of the same one every year?" Harry asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"That didn't come out as I intended it to." Severus admitted smirking.

"I hope so." Harry stated, humour colouring his voice.

The next day came and with it, the first Quidittch practice of the new school year. Oliver, as usually, was in a frenzy; it was his last year at Hogwarts, as he reminded his players, and he was adamant that he should go with a bang. He wanted to make this year's Cup not only stay in Gryffindor -where it's rightful place was, as he put it- but be won in such a way that left the rest of the Houses grovelling. His passion was so obvious, that Harry found himself agreeing. His only wish was that he could use his Firebolt; not that he had complaints about his old broom but -by goblins' gold!- he had  _designed_  the Firebolt! It was just different.

It was only on the sixteenth of that month when something of a completely different nature claimed his attention; he was sitting at the Common Room peacefully, reading the latest issue of  _Transfiguration Weekly_ , when a crying Lavender Brown made her entrance in the room. She was muttering and half-wailing and Harry couldn't help but wonder what had happened. Neville threw a disturbed glance at him and they both concealed their laughter the best they could, waiting for the girl to explain. As subtlety had never been one of Lavender's strongest points, he soon had his curiosity sated; her pet bunny had died. Sad, okay, he agreed, he would probably not be above shedding tears if Hedwig died, but wailing in the middle of a crowded room? Talk about a drama queen!

But Lavender and her tendency to overreact soon faded to the background as his attention was captured by Ron and Hermione who had gotten into a fight of how Ron was easily fooled by shady predictions of the future something the red head had countered with stating Hermione was far too cold hearted and stuck only to what was written in books. And that wasn't the only fight he remembered those two having since the term had started.

"Oh, another fight." A voice, Ginny's voice, sounded from his left. The girl had seated herself onto an armchair, reading her Defence textbook.

"They've been doing an awful lot of that lately, haven't they?"

"That would be an understatement." Ginny snorted as she looked at her brother and Hermione who were now glaring at each other as Adrian tried to calm them down. "I wonder when they'll realize they actually fancy each other." She mused as she returned to her book. Harry felt his eyebrow rise on its on accord.

"You think that's their real issue?"

"You  _don't_?" She asked nonchalantly, not even bothering to look at him. That was an interesting perspective, he admitted, looking at a bemused Neville who simply nodded in agreement. And thinking back, maybe Ginny was right.

"Huh." He simply mumbled and went back to his reading. Who knew?

The Halloween weekend was approaching and Adrian was getting more and more gloomy as the days passed; their parents, in lieu of the latest events, had decided not to sign the forms necessary and as, a result, Harry and Adrian would be forced to remain in the school that day.

"Oh, come on, Adrian!" Harry exclaimed after he saw his brother plopping down on the couch next to him. "It's not like we've never been to Hogsmeade before!"

"Not with the rest of the school, we haven't!" Adrian countered as Harry rolled his eyes; when his brother was determined to sulk, he would sulk and there was no way around it.

"Well, I'm going to the library." Harry stated as he stood up from the couch and closed the Herbology book he had borrowed for his essay. "Want to come along?"

"Bloody hell, no!" Adrian grumbled, his scowl never receding.

"Suit yourself." Harry offered somewhat amused; Neville was already at the library himself, so Harry's spirits lifted at the very thought. He met with Filch as he walked down the corridors and had to convince him that the book he was holding was actually due to be returned to the library and was walking back to the common room when he ran into Severus who was holding a smoking goblet. "Taking Remus his potion?" Harry asked as he immediately recognised the Wolfsbane.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, I am." Severus stated. "Even if that means I'll probably have to endure yet another conversation with the dog and his not so subtle interjections on how I'd look dashing in green." Severus added scathingly. Harry tried to suppress his smile as he walked him to the Defence professors' office. In less than a minute, Severus knocked on the door and walked in. As he had predicted, Sirius was there too, sitting next to the fireplace.

"Snape." He barked in the form of a greeting. "Hey, kiddo! Decided to pay us a visit?" He added brightly as Harry walked in after the potions master.

"Hey Sirius, Remus." Harry greeted them back as Severus placed the goblet on the desk behind which Remus was seated. "I was returning a book to the library and I ran into Professor Snape while he was on his way here; I just tagged along."

"Your potion's ready." Severus stated dryly. "If you need some more, I've made a cauldronfull."

"Yes, I might need some more tomorrow. Thank you, Severus." Remus, ever polite, sculled the potion down in a few gulps. "Tasted horrible, as always." He stated good-naturedly, wincing at the taste.

"Say, Snape," Sirius began. "Don't you think you should stop wearing black at some point in time?" Severus didn't dignify his question with an answer but that didn't deter the dog Animagus from continuing. "Because I've heard  _green_  is the new black this season and you could do with a more lively colour to contrast with your face..." Severus just stared at him scornfully.

"I'll keep that in mind." Was all he said. Sirius, disappointed the potions master hadn't taken the bait, tried to talk again when Harry decided to intervene. The bowl on Remus's desk gave him just the opportunity.

"Hey, isn't that a grindylow?" He asked, pointing at the water demon with interest. Severus took the hint and excused himself as Remus explained how he planned to move on to water demons after the Kappa's. Sirius just returned to reading some file from the Ministry disappointed while Harry internally sighed for a crisis adverted. He absent-mindedly wondered how long it would take Severus to tear the practice dummy to pieces this time.

By the time he made it back to the Gryffindor tower, talking with Neville over their latest Herbology project, Ron and Hermione had returned, along with a large assortment of candy from Honeydukes, the famous candy shop in Hogsmeade. The sugar seemed to placate Adrian slightly and he was on a better mood as they all headed down for the Halloween feast. As usual, the food was delicious and there hardly was a student who didn't refill their plates. Even those who had visited Honeydukes seemed keen on stuffing themselves with Hogwarts's famous pumpkin pie and the green eyed teen could easily understand why.

Delicious food put aside, he couldn't shake off a foreboding feeling that he had had for the whole day. It had taken him sometime to see it for what it was but as he stared at the dark sky of the enchanted ceiling he realised exactly what bothered him. It was Halloween; something bad usually happened on Halloween. Well, he corrected himself, something bad usually happened to  _him_  on Halloween. Quirrell and his troll, Miss Norris's attack and who could forget Voldemort trying to kill him and his brother when they were one?

But, he mused giving optimism a chance, nothing had happened as of yet; maybe they'd get a free pass this time. And as the time passed and the feast came to an end, he was pleased to report that no possessed professors had rushed into the room, no deathday party appeared on the horizon and not a single whisper, a tall-tale of a murderous serpent, had reached his ears. No sir!

As expected under such conditions, Harry was in a bright disposition as he followed his Gryffindor housemates back to the common room, happily chatting with Neville over the possibility of a new exciting creature to study in DADA. The Weasley twins approached them, mentioning a new invention they were working on when he managed to bump into Lee Jordan who had been walking ahead of him.

"Sorry, Lee." He muttered, rubbing his nose.

"Not your fault, Harry." The fifth year student assured him.

"Why is nobody moving?" Harry asked, realising that it hadn't been just him that was brought into an abrupt halt. The line of Gryffindors ahead of him was unmoving, no one stepping through the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Why isn't anyone going in?" Ron sounded from further behind. Good question, Harry thought as he tried to look over the heads of the people assembled in the hall before the entrance. The passage seemed closed which made no sense; was the Fat Lady visiting one of her friends again? But, the green eyed teen thought, she never did do that before curfew.

"Let me through, please," came Percy's voice, as he made his way, bustling importantly through the crowd. "What's the holdup here? You can't all have forgotten the password… excuse me, I'm Head Boy…" And then a silence fell over the crowd, from the front first, so that a chill seemed to spread down the corridor. If anyone thought of Dementors, they chose not to show it. Then, they heard Percy say, in a suddenly sharp voice, "Somebody get Professor Dumbledore. Quick."

"Dumbledore?" Harry wondered out loud. What could be so important they needed Dumbledore? His mind inevitably travelled back to last year's attacks. But the basilisk was dead, he was sure of it. For better or for worse, anything he had ever set out to kill died. And not even the king of serpents could have survived the events of last June.

Dumbledore soon appeared and the Gryffindors parted so he could walk through. Harry was one of the few that followed him. From afar the portrait seemed to still be closed but the Fat Lady wouldn't abandon her post while there was a feast downstairs. It only took a quick look to understand why the portrait still seemed closed. The frame was still attached to the wall alright. It was the rest of the painting that was missing.

The canvas was torn badly, shreds of various sizes hanging from the mangled remains of what once was the portrait of the Fat Lady. The woman herself must have fled -and thankfully so- for Harry couldn't discern any trace of pink neither on what pieces of the painting were still hanging from the frame nor on the larger parts on the floor. Dumbledore took one quick look at the ruined painting and turned, his eyes somber, to see McGonagall, Remus, and Severus hurrying toward him.

"We need to find her," said Dumbledore. "Professor McGonagall, please go to Mr. Filch at once and tell him to search every painting in the castle for the Fat Lady." Severus observed the painting with barely restrained fury; there was only one man that would have something to gain from such a desperate move. He had never expected Pettigrew to have anything even resembling a backbone but there was no other explanation that occurred to him at the moment. Maybe the rat's escape had been something more than it appeared to be…

"You'll be lucky!" said a cackling voice, interrupting his trail of thought. One look over his head easily betrayed the source of the sound to be Peeves. Not that he knew another being with such a gratingly mocking voice. And the poltergeist looked delighted about something; that was never a good sign.

"What do you mean, Peeves?" said Dumbledore calmly, effectively wiping the smirk off the ghost's face; even Peeves with his obnoxious nature didn't dare taunt Dumbledore. I suppose he's good for something after all, Severus mused.

"Ashamed, Your Headship, sir. Doesn't want to be seen. She's a horrible mess. Saw her running through the landscape up on the fourth floor, sir, dodging between the trees. Crying something dreadful," he said happily. "Poor thing," he added unconvincingly, his smirk having returned tenfold. Severus had to hold back his own smirk; he had caught Harry rolling his eyes exasperatedly with the corner of his eye, a reaction that made him look so much like him it was more than amusing, despite the situation.

"Did she say who did it?" said Dumbledore quietly. It was obvious to those who knew him that he was just waiting for a confirmation of his fears.

"Oh yes, Professorhead," said Peeves, with the air of one cradling a large bombshell in his arms. Denying himself the pleasure of casting a  _Scurgify_ on the ghost, Severus waited for the rest of the explanation. "He got very angry when she wouldn't let him in, you see." Peeves flipped over and grinned at Dumbledore from between his own legs. "For such a short man he's got a nasty temper, that Peter Pettigrew." One look between Severus and Harry was enough to get the message across. The message in question happened to be  _"bloody hell"_  as both had hoped for a calm Halloween this time.

The students were led to the Great Hall, as the professors were dispatched to search the whole castle. Dumbledore conjured sleeping bags for them all with a rather impressing transformation spell and then joined the search, leaving a rather pompous looking Percy Weasley in charge.

As Hermione berated their classmates over how it was impossible to enter the school magically, hinting on the wards and the Dementors, Harry just looked at the enchanted ceiling thoughtfully. Even if Hermione wasn't supposed to tell -and neither was Adrian, Ron or himself- the part of _how_  Peter had entered the castle, considering he could turn into a mouse, was halfway explained.

That is if one excepted how it should have been impossible to enter the school as all passageways had been warded specifically to keep animagi out -the enchantment being lifted only when either Sirius or Professor McGonagall were passing through, a fact that had been troubling mostly for Severus; he had had to come up with excuses as to why he couldn't use the passageways, his way out of an inquiry being none other than Sirius who had apparently volunteered to patrol the secret entrances. Severus had easily refused to work so close to Sirius and the Headmaster, wanting to avoid a confrontation, had acquiesced. That of course didn't allow Harry to use the passageways out either, but that hadn't posed a problem so far.

Still a question remained to be answered; why in the world would Pettigrew try to sneak in the first night this term when  _nobody_  was inside the Common Room? If he wanted to attack Adrian, all he had to do was wait a little longer for the children to arrive. Then again, he would have to go through an entire Hogwarts House and he didn't have a wand. Any student above the fourth year -and then there was himself and of course Adrian- could have easily stopped him. If they were awake that is. But even if they weren't before, someone would have woken up and noticed a man carrying Adrian Potter away.

It just made no sense. The man was either desperate, Harry thought, or was following some sort of a plan. And considering that he wasn't the brightest man around from what he had heard so far, if he was following a plan he wasn't in this alone. And it seemed he wasn't the only one with such an opinion; Severus approached Dumbledore a few hours later, posing the exact same question. Why in the world would Pettigrew, a man that cared only ever for his own hide, behave so recklessly?

 


	38. Fights And a Patronus

The days passed quite swiftly after the Gryffindor Tower incident as it was now called among the students. Harry's concentration was forcefully swayed from trying to make heads or tails from Pettigrew's assault -but not Severus's who was stubbornly obsessing over the incident- because of Quidditch of all things. The first game of the season was Slytherin versus Gryffindor and Harry had been mentally preparing himself for a dirty game. But the Slytherin team had other issues.

To Harry's -and Severus's- great annoyance, a day before the match, Marcus Flint, Slytherin's captain, marched in the field while they were practicing and informed them that Malfoy had had an accident during practice and therefore couldn't compete. So the match effectively became Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff. Neville, who had been observing the confrontation from the sidelines, simply rolled his eyes and poined upwards towards the cloud-ridden skies. Harry nodded in understanding.

"Hurt my arse!" George exclaimed after Flint left the field. "They just don't want to play in this weather!" And Harry completely agreed; it had been raining non stop for the past three days and all the signs pointed that the day of the match would be even windier than the one before. On more news on the subject, it seemed that Hufflepuff had a new captain; his name was Cedric Diggory and he was also the Seeker of the team. Harry smirked bemused at the reaction that titbit of information caused to the female players of the team but he seemed to be the only male to do so. George and Fred sure didn't like it, and made a point to express exactly how much over dinner later that day, while Harry simply nodded and tried to choke his amused snorts in his mashed potatoes. His best friend just managed to choke on his mashed potatoes and the two teens started laughing openly when Fred and George left the table.

Nevertheless the team resumed their school activities, unable to do anything more; for one they decided not to steep low enough and bail out of the game and two, the weather really didn't allow them to practice any longer so even Oliver had to concede taking their minds off the game was probably the best strategy they could follow. The next day Sirius, who was teaching that week mostly because of the full moon, was more than happy to provide him with tips on how to stabilise his course while flying under heavy rain. Harry didn't have the heart to tell him that he probably knew more about the handlings of a broomstick than he did, so he just stood back and listened carefully. Surprisingly, Neville had seemed interested on what Sirius had to say and Harry filed that information away for further reference, his attention focusing not on what was being explained but on the dog animagus himself.

It was obvious to all those in the know that his godfather had been put under great amounts of stress lately; black circles were always prominent under his eyes and he seemed to have lost some weight. Harry already knew he was taking Pettigrew's escape personally; he didn't even dare to think how he had felt once he realised his once friend had entered the school while he was supposed to be guarding it.

He already knew that his mother had almost had a heart attack. Adrian had received an extremely long letter on how he should be more careful than he had been up to that point, how he should never leave the common room after nightfall and other similar instructions that had sent his older brother into a sulking fit. Harry just hoped Adrian wouldn't try to do something dangerous just out of spite at this point. Knowing his brother's risky nature, he might just. The Weasley twins had been sending his brother weird looks all week too. What was that about?

All his thoughts on the subject were stalled as the day of the game arrived; he was in the process of waterproofing the goggles and clothes of the whole team when a very wet Sirius and an equally drenched Adrian entered the room.

"Hey there!" Harry greeted them, placing the last spell on Alicia Spinet's goggles. "That should do it, Alicia."

"You're a lifesaver, Harry."

"Are you casting waterproof spells?" Sirius asked his godson, smiling proudly.

"I figured they might be a little helpful." Harry admitted casting the spell over his own clothes and gear. Thunder boomed close to the Quidditch pitch temporarily halting all conversation. "I don't know if you noticed, but it's raining." Harry stated breaking the silence.

"I sort of did." Sirius admitted, drying his and Adrian's clothes with a wave of his wand.

"So, ready for the game?" Adrian asked.

"Yep." Harry assured him, trying to sound as confident as possible. He wished once again that he could be riding his Firebolt instead.

"You sure?" Sirius asked. Harry rolled his eyes and turned to face his godfather.

"Broom, check." He started, showing them his Nimbus Two Thousand. "Waterproofed clothes to survive the cataclysm, check." He continued, making his brother chuckle. "Waterproofed goggles so I can actually see where I'm going amidst said cataclysm, also check. Wand, because I'm paranoid, check."

"Okay, kiddo. You convinced me." Sirius stated, clapping the teenager on the back once.

"We just came to say good luck." Adrian offered. "I just really wish it could have been Malfoy you'd be beating; but Hufflepuff will do." Harry smiled at his brother's encouragement; it was nice to hear that he could do it from someone else other than Severus from time to time.

"Your brother's right, Harry." Sirius added. "You'll do just fine." Harry nodded and smiled at their retreating backs as he got ready to enter the field.

"I'll second that!" Neville's voice sounded from the back of the room where Oliver had roped him in trying to explain how the teem would operate during the game. "And could you please remind Oliver that I'm actually not a part of the Quidditch team? I think he forgot." Harry laughed openly at that, casting a glance to a now silent Oliver, frantically going over the schematics he had come up with over the last week.

"I don't think it matters at this point, Nev." Harry admitted, chuckling once more. "I believe that Oliver would had tried to explain his strategies even to Trevor should he decide to stroll by." The boys shared another round of mirthful laughter before Neville wished his friend good luck and run outside to join the rest of their House at the stands.

Looking back to this day, Harry would later realise it was the only time he could remember when Oliver didn't give them a speech at the beginning of the game. The Gryffindor captain was so intent on leaving Hogwarts with the best Quidditch season the school had ever seen, he had rendered himself speechless. Another first was entering the field and barely hearing the cheering of the crowd. The rain pouring down so hard he suspected the rest of the team couldn't hear them at all. The two captains shook hands and the game began.

Harry took of, keeping his broomstick as steady as possible, not that he had great success; the wind was so strong he had to hold on tighter than ever. He did a few circles around the field, mindful of the opposing Seeker; Oliver had been hopeful that, due to the ghastly weather, Cedric and his larger frame would be at disadvantage out in the field. The thing was that all the enchantments in the world could not fool the wind; even if nobody could see it, Harry had grown even more since he had hit puberty, his height reaching five feet six inches. Severus liked to say that he looked as if he had been hit by a stretching curse, gaining almost three inches in two months. Harry had just scowled as the potions master reapplied the concealment charms they used, even if Severus had persuaded him to let his newfound height show gradually as the year progressed.

Now however, the wind was giving him more trouble than he had expected; Harry did the best he could to locate the Snitch as fast as possible. The sooner he got back to the ground the better, especially considering his accident prone nature. Unknown to him, Severus was having the exact same thoughts; who in their right minds would allow a Quidditch game to commence under such weather conditions? Nobody, the potions master decided. But Albus Dumbledore, although a wizard of many graces, was decisively not sane. He shot a dirty look at said Headmaster and resumed watching the game just in time to catch Harry avoiding a Bludger aimed straight for his head quite spectacularly.

The green eyed wizard was clinging onto his broomstick for dear life as he searched around the field for the elusive golden Snitch. He thought he had caught sight of it once but a well aimed Bludger prevented him from further investigating. Not that it had been done on purpose; Cedric was just as lost as he was and seemed more intent to follow him around the course and just make sure he would be able to get to the Snitch faster once it had been spotted.

Harry had to admit the sixth year Hufflepuff was good. Following the opposing Seeker would have been what he would have chosen to do himself if he realised his opponent had better chances to get the Snitch than he had. But it was getting halfway annoying. He tried to trick him a couple of times and, though it partially worked, it was ultimately not worth his time; the weather was far too bad to execute more manoeuvres than necessary. Well, Harry thought as he looked at the rest of his team's players, at least the waterproof spells were holding; they were in the lead and looking much more comfortable than their opponents.

And while he was starting to get irritated at both the weather conditions and Cedric Diggory's seemingly endless chase of himself instead of the Snitch, he saw it; a golden light hovering right above the ground near the Hufflepuff hoops. With a wide smirk he dived, accelerating as fast as his broomstick would allow. It wasn't even a second into his descent when he felt it; the cold piercing his skin like a thousand needles, the still faint but gradually getting louder screams of a dying man ringing in his ears. Time seemed to stop as all cheering from the crowd fainted and everyone stood terrified at the entrance of the tall hooded forms of the Dementors.

Harry started getting dizzy; the pounding in his head was so unrelenting he almost thought he would loose his grip on the Nimbus. But in the end his eyes narrowed in anger and not in fear; he wouldn't freeze in the face of danger ever again; he had sworn so years ago and no Dementor would make him break his oath. He pulled out his wand and aimed at their general direction, gathering the happiest thoughts he could gather; his Firebolt, Severus's proud face once they left the Nimbus offices, his brother alive after every ordeal, himself laughing his heart out in various places of the world, laughing with Neville by the like for the first time realizing what true friendship felt like, saving Adrian…

"Expecto Patronum!" His voice boomed over the silent field as a huge burst of silver light announced the successful conjuring of his patronus. That was one spell that, no matter how advanced, Severus had agreed he should use openly. Smiling wide at the retreating ringing in his ears, he turned his attention back to the golden Snitch; the appearance of his patronus, although staggering, seemed to have broken the Dementors' spell over Hufflepuff's Seeker too; the blond boy had started diving too. And he had started his dive closer to the Snitch to begin with.

"Come on!" Harry urged his broomstick. "Faster!" He leaned as close as he could to the Nimbus and couldn't hold back his victorious laughter as he overtook Cedric and managed to get the tiny Snitch just seconds before the other Seeker. He flew upwards his fingers tight around the still straggling Snitch as Madam Hooch signalled the end of the game, Lee Jordan's voice shouting Gryffindor's victory to the heavens. He never remembered having gotten a more thunderous applause; it seemed that the crowd was roaring, the clapping booming louder than thunder. He hadn't even touched the ground when his team mates flew to hug him.

"A patronus!" Oliver exclaimed. "A real patronus! And you got the Snitch! Best. Seeker. Ever!" He had said everything very fast, probably in one breath and while holding onto Harry for dear life.

"You're suffocating him, Oliver!" Angelica called from somewhere over his left shoulder. She had a good point, a rapidly turning blue Harry noted. Before being able to think about being hugged to death, he was pried away from a now tearing up Oliver and was vividly congratulated by his team mates. Peeping over George's -or Fred's, he couldn't even begin to tell in that downpour- shoulder, his eyes searched for the resident potions master.

Said potions master was smirking contently and was walking towards Harry along with the rest of the staff led by a gapping Sirius, a confused Dumbledore and a -goblins' gold!- skipping Professor McGonagall. Harry simply smiled at their direction and got ready to get his story straight; he knew he was going to need one eventually so he had come up with one the moment he had managed to conjure his first patronus. Severus had heard it, refined it a bit, and now it was ready for the telling.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" Sirius exclaimed looking at his godson in shock. "What was that?"

"Congratulations, Mr. Potter!" A smiling McGonagall exclaimed in turn; she didn't seem just as anxious to find out where the patronus had come from, at least not at this point, Harry thought amused.

"Yes, yes." Albus began, his voice for once somehow stumped. "A great game and an even greater showcase of magic."

"What the bloody hell, Harry?" Sirius offered once again, making the green eyed wizard chuckle.

"Would you mind if we took this inside?" He asked, looking up at the sky. "I'm getting drenched; waterproof spells can only go that far." Neville was just standing there, looking at his best friend with proud smile and a glint in his eyes; Harry figured he would be teaching Neville how the Patronus spell worked soon. He smiled at the prospect and nodded once before turning his gaze back at the Headmaster.

"Yes, of course." Dumbledore agreed. And as such, the greater part of the school's staff followed the Gryffindor team amidst loud cheers in the changing rooms. Harry paused only as he passed by Cedric and extended his hand.

"You were great out there." He said smiling at the older boy who, after the initial surprise smiled and shook Harry's hand.

"Well, you were better."

"Let's just say we both did our best. It was a very good game." Harry stated chuckling.

"It sure was!" Cedric agreed chuckling too. They bid each other goodbye and took of for their respective changing rooms. Severus made a mental note to get Harry something huge for Christmas as the boy congratulated his opponent for a game well played; he had raised a gentleman, damn it! And you're not going to cry, he reminded himself. Just for a good measure, he turned towards the openly awed Sirius and his smirk returned. The moment they stepped foot inside the locker room, Harry was bombarded with a million questions once again.

"Will you tell me what the bloody hell was that?" Sirius asked again frantically.

"Yes, I think we'd all want to know." Dumbledore insisted; the room suddenly fell silent as Harry shrugged.

"First of all, has professor Lupin told you that my boggard takes the form of a Dementor?" Harry asked the Headmaster; the old man shook his head negatively as he had never asked. Sirius however nodded yes and so did professor McGonagall. "Well, after I first encountered them on the train here, I looked for a spell that I could use against them in the library; the Patronus charm isn't that hard to find as it's being taught in seventh year."

"Agreed." Albus stated and motioned him to continue.

"Well, I picked up the incantation and the way I could make it work but, even after a month when I finally managed to conjure a corporeal patronus, I had no way to see if it would work against Dementors. And then I faced the boggard and I figured that, if I trained against a boggard that pretended to be a Dementor and had the spell work, then it would do the same against a real Dementor." Harry explained.

"Quite reasonable!" Flitwick imputed. "And very Ravenclaw of you, Mr. Potter!"

"Thank you, professor." Harry said smiling, remembering how the twins had said Flitwick believed he was a Ravenclaw in disguise.

"So, what did you do?" Sirius asked confused.

"Well, I heard that professor Lupin was training Adrian and you sir were busy with the search for Pettigrew so…"

"He asked me to find him a boggard." Severus admitted, his face blank. The silence was complete once again.

"You?" Sirius asked holding his head as if dizzy. The rest of the Gryffindors stared at their potions master in shock.

"Yes." Severus answered seemingly disinterested. "I provided him with a boggard and an empty classroom. I guess he trained." He made it sound as if he was disappointed Harry had made it, something that seemed to appease the Gryffindors who probably thought he had hoped Harry had either quit or been beaten to a pulp by the boggard.

"I did, sir." Harry offered helpfully. "I just managed to make the spell work a few days ago." That was a bit of a lie, but Adrian had managed to get a corporeal patronus a few weeks before the game and Harry didn't want to inform them that he had managed to do so faster in front of a -for all intends and purposes- Dementor.

"That does explain things." Dumbledore offered, his eyes twinkling merrily. Harry correctly guessed that he had reached a conclusion and from the happy look on his face, probably the wrong one. Oh well. "Twenty points to Gryffindor for its Seeker's resolve." Clapping and cheering sounded inside the locker room only to intensify when Professor Flitwick awarded ten more points for;

"Showing great magical prowess and determination." And the tiny professor left, thinking once again that maybe the Sorting Hat had been wrong for once and that the youngest Potter should have been a Ravenclaw. Professor McGonagall followed his example congratulating the team once again thinking of how not even Dementors could shake the Quidditch Cup from her office. The Headmaster left thinking how Severus might have actually started to change for the better while raising Harry. And Sirius grudgingly followed a proud -yet extrovertly calm- Severus out the door thinking that something had sounded off in the conversation that had just occurred; he would have to find out what, he decided.

"Do you fancy taking this party to the common room?" Fred asked, his proposal being welcomed by a round of cheering and applause. Harry had to admit, this day was definitely a highlight in a rather hectic week. He fully expected to return to the Gryffindor common room and spend a relaxing evening, maybe grab something to eat as, per usual, his appetite had disappeared before of the game, talking to Neville and even starting to explain just how he could conjure a patronus. What he hadn't expected was finding himself in the middle of a fight.

"Look, if Harry can do it, you can do it too, Ron!" A furious Hermione accused the very much affronted youngest Weasley male. "Merlin knows for how long Adrian's been trying to teach you how it's done!" Harry shared a semi panicked glance with a wide eyed Neville who had entered the changing rooms the moment the professors had vacated them and had walked with the team to the Gryffindor tower explaining what had happened when the Dementors had entered the field from his perspective.

"What?" He mouthed at the stunned Gryffindor Seeker who just shrugged and turned to the twins for some insight on the situation.

"Seems like our little brother has found himself in trouble." Fred stated looking at George.

"It would appear to be so, oh dashing twin of mine." George stated, his smirk mirroring his twin's.

"And what are you going to do about it?" Harry asked shaking his head at his friends' antics.

"Nothing!" They exclaimed in chorus.

"He got himself into this…"

"… now he's got to get himself out!" Fred completed his brother's sentence and followed him to the impromptu buffet they had collected from the kitchens. In any other situation, Harry would have followed their nonchalant example but his name had been brought up; that's couldn't be good.

"Help!" He mouthed to Neville as his brother claimed his attention.

"Harry!" A relieved Adrian called, looking overjoyed his twin had arrived. "Help me!" The older twin whispered as he patted his brother on the back.

"And risk my life in the process? How did I even get involved in this fight?" The green eyed twin asked in panic.

"Harry!" Ron called, glad to find a way out of what seemed to be a budding argument. "Wicked game, mate!"

"Thanks, Ron." Harry said, approaching him carefully, Neville following only a few paces behind. Hermione was looking at him perplexed.

"Where did you learn how to conjure a patronus like that?" The brown haired girl enquired. Harry resisted rolling his eyes; she really meant well but she could be so overbearing some times! She arched an eyebrow and waited for a response Harry didn't feel obliged to give; couldn't she have asked nicely?

"Oh come on, Hermione!" Ginny sounded from behind him. "It's like you've got Harry under trial! Nice game by the way, Harry. And a mean patronus; what was it? I was a bit far to see." The green eyed wizard turned and smiled at the red haired girl.

"Thanks, Ginny. And it was a wolf."

"A little big for a wolf, wasn't it?" The younger girl asked amused. "It looked larger than a bear."

"I'm just that good, Weasley." Harry stated smirking. Ginny rolled her eyes at him and turned back to her friends but not before muttering;

"You're so full of it, Potter." Harry chuckled but was forcefully pried from his light mood from an expectant Hermione.

"You never did tell me you know." She seemed like she was resisting tapping her foot annoyed on the floor and Harry sighed in resignation. He gave her the same story he had presented after the game; it had more impact on Ron and Adrian than on her.

"Snape?" Ron asked incredulously. "Snape helped you?"

"He looked disappointed the boggart didn't eat you or something if you want my opinion." Fred, who had been listening at the conversation, informed them. "He was looking rather annoyed at you."

"More like angry." George corrected. Harry just shook his head.

"I think he always looks like that when Sirius is in proximity." The twins nodded at the logic of that statement.

"Still, Snape helping isn't an idea you can easily wrap your mind around." Adrian stated. Neville looked at Harry with a soft smile; he had started to realize that the image professor Snape was showing to everybody at Hogwarts was quite different to how he really was like. And his relationship with Harry too, Neville pondered, was more than they let on for certain. He had realised some time ago that Harry had chosen to show just how different things were between the potions master and himself to him and him alone and he couldn't help but feel overwhelmed at having gained such a trust; Neville knew what it meant to keep a part of yourself private. Having someone to share your innermost fears and anxieties with was the closest Neville had ever come to having a brother, something he had wished for since he was little.

"That's not the point here." Hermione said dismissing them all and breaking Neville from his reverie. She turned her attention to Ron again. "You see? Harry did it because he practiced; since you're training with Adrian you could at least try and be more…"

"Oh, cut it out, Hermione!" Ron cut her rant short, blushing a deep red all the way to his ears; he didn't much enjoy being scolded by a girl in front of his brothers. "It's not my bloody fault you've taken up more lessons than you can take and you had no time to join patronus training!" And Harry had been wondering how that had happened since Adrian mentioned that only Ron would be training with him.

"It's not my fault you took the easy way out with Divination!" Hermione countered, her voice getting louder. Harry backed up swallowing; this really wasn't playing out well. He sent Fred a terrified glance and he in turn motioned him to back up further away. Neville, showing prudence, was already a few good feet back.

"Adrian has chosen the same electives as I did!" An affronted Ron reminded her; they had by that moment started gathering the attention of the rest of the House.

"But he does extra training and…"

"We can't all be annoying, bossy, know-it-alls!" Ron spat and Harry watched in horror as Hermione's eyes became moist.

"You're insufferable sometimes!" She exclaimed and ran out of the room and to the girls' dormitories, barely restraining her tears. Harry shook his head dejectedly; they were both insufferable sometimes. Neville offered him a glass of pumpkin juice in silent commiseration as he pointed towards the buffet and assuring Harry he would bring something for him too.

Ron was sulking in the corner when the twins shared yet another look and placed a hand over Adrian's shoulders; Harry studied them for a while as they led his brother out of the room. He made to follow them but was interrupted by a jubilant Oliver who wanted to talk Quidditch strategies. Harry wasn't sure what unnerved him most from that point onwards; Oliver's eyes gleaming as if he was under high fever as he talked about Quidditch or his brother's equally gleaming eyes as he returned to the common room?


	39. A New Prophecy

As November ended, the weather got steadily colder; the first snow had already fallen and, by the time December rolled in, the school grounds were covered in a thick white blanket. Harry's life had pretty much entered a routine; he was studying, working a little on his side project with Severus and his animagus training, sketching the odd addition to the Firebolt's Seeker edition even. Not that he minded; it was nice to not have to be reminded that a psychopath is out for your brother's -and possibly yours- blood as far as he was concerned. Neville had been working hard on his spellwork lately and Harry had offered to help him practice; even though it took a hefty chunk off their free time to do so, Neville was steadily improving and was now up to par with the rest of their year. Blowing off some steam helped too, Harry noted one night as he fell exhausted on his bed, after an hour of rigorous training.

He was returning from the library the next morning when he ran into Hermione. She seemed as if she had been crying again. The girl brushed past him, muttering a muffled apology as Harry looked at her in exasperation; Ron was taking it too far this time. Really, how hard would it be to approach her and say sorry? Apparently too hard. He walked to the Gryffindor tower's entrance and tried to remember the password to get in. After the assault on the Fat Lady, the opening to the common room had been covered with the portrait of one Sir Cadogan, a rather hopeless looking knight and his plump grey pony. The knight insisted on coming up with a new password at least twice a day and constantly tried to challenge the students unlucky enough to forget said code word to a duel. Adrian said he had encountered him once before while trying to find the divination tower; the hazel eyed boy seemed vaguely scared of the painting. Harry shared the feeling.

Muttering the current password -oddsbodikins, really?- he entered the room where he found his annoyed brother trying to reason with a smug looking Ron. Adrian had been playing the middle man for sometime now and he was steadily getting sick of it. Harry sat on an armchair by the fire and took out his potions textbook; in every truth, he had finished his assignment while in the library but he had always found it easier to observe others while hidden behind a book; and he was currently observing the antics of his brother.

Ever since the party after the victory over Hufflepuff, Adrian had been somehow getting gloomier every day; Sirius and Remus were as obsessed as ever over finding Pettigrew -and who could blame them- their fear making them fuss even more over Adrian and, surprisingly to Harry, on him too. Their mother on the other hand, had sent Adrian a long, three paged letter after Pettigrew's attempt to enter the common room, urging him to be careful and never leave the castle unescorted. He even had some teachers follow him around the school from times to times, especially when they had Care of Magical Creatures with Hagrid. And then there was that talk he had had with the Weasley twins that night.

Adrian hadn't told him anything and the twins didn't leave anything slip either -apparently they had promised, silly redheads that always kept their word- but it seemed that something important had transgressed that night and he had no knowledge of it. He had mentioned as much to Neville and his friend had come up with one crazy scenario after the next, managing to make Harry double over in laughter. Because really, illegal trials of stretching and muscle toning spells with Professor Flitwick as the test subject could only paint hilarious images in ones imagination. But when Neville wasn't around to take his mind off things, his imagination took a darker course; what if Adrian managed to get himself in danger? Once again he rubbed his temples trying to calm down. How was he supposed to protect his brother if he never knew what Adrian was up to? He had been extremely lucky up to that point, he knew.

The only one in the know of the exact content of that mysterious conversation seemed to be Ron; Harry had seen his brother and the redhead whisper about, very much as they did in their first year before Hermione was admitted into their close circle. And if even Hermione didn't know, it must have meant that whatever they were talking about was probably something Adrian wasn't supposed to be doing.

The green eyed teen understood his brother's predicament to a point; true, he had never experienced such an extent of overprotecting frenzy himself -even if Severus had his moments- but he knew how it was, not being free to act as you felt like. He just wished he could find out what these two had been talking about but they were being extra careful this time around.

He had caught them once or twice staring at a piece of parchment in silent awe and he had even taken a quick peak in his brother's parchments one night on Severus's advice; the potions master was just as unnerved with this quiet talking between Adrian and Ron as Harry was. Past experience had taught them both to be careful when signs such as these appeared on the horizon. Still, he had come up empty handed.

It was a few days before Christmas holidays when things took a turn for the worse; it was early morning on the second outing to Hogsmeade and Harry was visiting Remus with a cup of freshly made hot chocolate. It was the night of the full moon again and the werewolf was feeling a little worse for wear; he hadn't even managed to get to the Great Hall last night for dinner let alone attending breakfast this morning. He knocked on his office door and entered after hearing Remus's voice.

"Hey, kiddo!" Sirius greeted him from his favorite armchair by the fireplace; it seemed that he wasn't the only one who had thought to keep Remus company.

"Hello, Sirius. Remus." He said and turned to face the werewolf; he was seated across his best friend looking tired, black circles prominent under his honey brown eyes.

" _Even a man who is pure in heart and says his prayers by night,_

_may become a wolf when the wolfbane blooms and the full moon is bright."_

It was a rhyme that always echoed in the green eyed wizard's mind when he was around Remus during the days of the full moon. Harry believed that nobody deserved the werewolf curse; he would certainly never wish it on anybody. But the fact was Remus was one of the kindest men he knew and that only made things that much more unfair.

"Hello, Harry." Remus greeted. "What brings you here?"

"Glad you asked, Remus!" Harry said; the werewolf's voice was tired and he decided he could at least try to brighten the mood. "I figured since it's  _these_  days of the month again, you could do with some chocolate." And he handled him the cup with the hot beverage, his face scrunched up slightly. "You know, that sounded plain weird." He admitted, sending the two adults in a fit of laughter.

"Thank you, Harry." Remus said, his voice somewhat lighter. "I needed that." He took a long drink from the chocolate and looked at Harry appreciatively. "Somehow you got better chocolate than what I'm usually given." Harry refrained from informing them it was Severus's preferred hot chocolate recipe.

"If you must know, I made this myself." And he was being honest; he had walked into the kitchens as the house elves were tidying up after breakfast and he just didn't have the heart to bother them with something as trivial as a cup of chocolate.

He had almost felt it wasn't worth the fight at some point as the elves were adamant they should do it; he had to resolve to cunning and inform them that, not only would he be delighted if they allowed them to use  _their_  kitchen -a compliment that was most appreciated by the elves- but he had also missed cooking, something he said he did often while at home; to that the house elves could relate and had finally allowed him to prepare the chocolate alone, making sure Harry understood the kitchens were always open to him. The images of a flour covered Severus from when they had attempted to bake for the first time when the boy was eight had him smiling the whole time.

"You did?" Remus asked surprised.

"The house elves almost had my head for it, but I did, yes." The teen assured him chuckling. Sirius reached over and messed his godson's hair smiling proudly; he knew more than anyone how much these little gestures meant for Remus.

"Well, you might just have to make all the hot chocolate I'll drink from now on." The werewolf stated smiling. "This stuff is amazing!"

"Now I'm feeling left out." Sirius mumbled good-naturedly.

"I'll make you one too next time." Harry promised smiling. "I just hope none of you are on a diet; this thing has more heavy cream in it than it has milk." The boy admitted. His honorary uncle laughed as Sirius stared at the large cup at his friend's hands longingly.

"Now I'm  _really_  feeling left out." Harry just smiled as his godfather pulled out his wand and conjured a third armchair for him to sit down. "Care to join us?"

"I might just." Harry said smiling; it felt good to talk to Remus and Sirius. In a sad way it had always been easier to talk to them than it had been to talk to his parents, the ease he felt with them only being surpassed with how he was with Severus, in the past with the Flamels and, lately, with Neville; but then again, his Dad fell under a whole different category of his own and so did his best friend.

"So, I heard about the patronus you conjured at your last Quidditch game." Remus said smiling. The match had almost been a month ago, coinciding with the days of the month that wore the werewolf down and, as a result, he had been unable to attend. "You've been holding back on us." Remus mock accused him and smirked over his cup. Harry couldn't even pretend to be hurt by his statement as Remus rarely showed his playful side and almost never the days before or after the full moon.

"Oh well." He answered indifferently, looking at his fingernails, assuming a superior air.

"Watch it, kiddo!" Sirius scolded him, barely holding back his laughter.

"So, what type of animal is your patronus?" Remus asked.

"Didn't Sirius tell you?" The teen asked back confused; after all, his godfather had been right there.

"I was a bit shocked -you know, from the fact that my thirteen year old godson had conjured a patronus- to notice exactly  _what_  it was." Sirius defended himself. "Besides, I was seated just behind the Dementors." He scrunched up his face in distaste. "Didn't really make for a great vantage point. But it was something large from what I could tell, almost what, seven feet tall? A bear perhaps?" Harry laughed at his suggestion.

"You know you're the second one that though it was a bear!" He informed his godfather. "But no, it wasn't. I'm shocked you didn't realize what it was though."

"Why?" Remus asked confused. Harry smiled.

"It's wolf." He answered simply. The wide smile he got from Remus was worth all the chocolate in the world; Harry always knew that the werewolf saw his condition as the darkest of curses. It must have felt nice to hear that a wolf could be a part of something so good.

"I guess you're part of the pack now, kiddo." Sirius stated, his voice slightly cracking. Another big softy, Harry thought. He thought of his Dad and wondered yet again who would have a coronary first once they realized how much alike they really were; Sirius or Severus? They continued talking for about half an hour before the conversation turned, unavoidably, to the subject of Pettigrew.

"I just don't get how all this could happen!" Sirius exclaimed, looking just as tired as Remus had when Harry had first walked into the office; maybe I truly should have brought him some chocolate too, Harry mused.

"Pettigrew's escape or his appearance at Hogwarts?" The teen asked after some thought.

"Both actually." Sirius responded.

"With all these anti-animagus wards, you would think he would stay out; he never was that smart really." Remus spoke, mostly to himself. "I can't see how he did it."

"I was thinking…" Harry looked at his hands hesitantly. "What if he's not working alone?"

"He doesn't have any accomplishes he could possibly turn to out of Azkaban." Sirius assured him. "Death Eaters that avoided arrest wouldn't help him and he has no family or friends left." His voice was admittedly cold at the last part.

"I guessed as much." Harry said waving his hand.

"Then what did you mean?" Remus asked interested.

"I meant, what if his escape was aided from  _inside_  Azkaban?" Harry asked. It was a theory Severus and he had come up with lately that he felt he should share. Sirius was, after all, leading the investigation along with Prongs.

"What do you mean by that?" Sirius asked, his mind already processing what his godson had suggested.

"You said it yourself; Pettigrew isn't very smart. Nor talented or extremely courageous either. I'm guessing all he truly was at the time was desperate. Desperate to get out." Harry offered. "So how did he escape? What prompted it? How could he tell the wards were down? Why  _now_?" The two adults studied him carefully. "It's rude to stare." Harry stated evenly as the two friends shared a look.

"You're right you know." Sirius admitted. "With what you asked, everything you said; you're right. When did you grow up to be so smart?" He was honestly perplexed about that. Harry smiled.

"I just grew up, Padfoot." The teen stated, sad he couldn't tell them the truth. "It happens to the best of us." They nodded silently and Remus finished his chocolate in silence. Harry looked at the flames dancing in the fireplace thoughtful; it felt good to show this side of himself to someone else than his Dad. Hiding felt so tiring sometimes. "I should head to the library." He stated after a few more moments of comfortable silence.

"Working on the essay for DADA I hope." Sirius teased him.

"If you must know, I already finished that." Harry said winking. "But I have a parchment of runes to translate."

"Ah, yes." Remus said smiling. "Ancient Runes and Arithmancy is what you selected."

"Care of Magical Creatures too." Harry offered.

"No Divination?" Sirius asked pretending to be shocked.

"Call me weird but I find predicting my death for a grade every week to be somehow depressing." The teen responded, green eyes twinkling.

"Only because it is." Remus stated agreeing. "Thank you for the chocolate, Harry. And for the company."

"Don't mention it, Moony." The boy smiled and moved to the door. Just as he was about to leave, his godfather rose and rushed to give him a hug.

"You're a great kid, Harry." Sirius said, surprising the teen. "I feel I haven't been telling you that enough."

"It's okay. I know I'm great." Harry assured him, causing both him and Remus to chuckle.

"Maybe you should hear it too." The werewolf offered.

"That's right." Harry stated smiling haughtily. "Feed my ego!"

"If anything, your ego is malnourished, kiddo." Sirius assured him, messing up his hair a bit. Harry just chuckled and left the office feeling much lighter than he did when he woke up in the morning. He would have to tell Sev all about it, he decided. And maybe he could interest Neville to some hot chocolate; he had completely neglected to make a cup for himself and besides, the house elves did say he could come back whenever he wanted.

He was walking towards the library, fully intent on borrowing a book on runes. Not for the translation he had been assigned for the day after of course; that would be finished in a few minutes. It was for his joined project with Severus. Apparently, alchemic processes were more difficult when working with glass.

It was twenty minutes later with a heavy book in his hands and while Harry was leaving the library when it happened. He had just turned around the corner when one of the oddest sights he had seen in his life welcomed him. A woman, probably in her early forties though it was a bit hard to tell, was walking down the corridor, concentrated on a deck of tarot cards she was reading as she went. She was very thin and she was draped in a gauzy spangled shawl. Innumerable chains and beads hung around her spindly neck, and her arms and hands were encrusted with bangles and rings. She had huge glasses on that magnified her eyes giving Harry the immediate impression of a large, glittering insect. He abruptly realized he was looking at Professor Trelawney.

"Good morning, Professor." He greeted her kindly, not getting a single response. She just passed him by, mumbling incoherently at her cards. He shrugged mentally and continued to walk away. A small but strong hand gripped his shoulder, stopping any further move he would have made. He immediately broke free and pulled out his wand, dropping the book he held as he turned around to face the person his instinct had marked as his attacker. His eyes widened in shock as they fell on the milky stare of the divination professor.

" **It will happen tonight."**

Her voice was hoarse, otherworldly. And her eyes that he had thought to be glazed over, had simply rolled back in her head.

"Professor Trelawney? Are you alright?" It felt like a stupid question to ask. She was having a vision, making a prediction, a prophecy. Harry was getting sick of those.

" **The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers.**

**His servant has been chained these twelve years.**

**Tonight, before midnight...**

**the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master.**

**The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible**

**than ever he was.**

**Tonight... before midnight... the servant...**

**will set out... to rejoin... his master..."**

Professor Trelawney's head fell forward onto her chest. She made a grunting sort of noise. Harry sat there, staring at her. Then, quite suddenly, Professor Trelawney's head snapped up again. Harry was looking at her stupefied. The Divination teacher just stared at him dazedly for a second before looking at her tarot cards scattered on the floor.

"Oh dear, how clumsy of me," she noted and bend down to gather the fallen deck of cards. Harry just stood there watching; he shook his head and bend down to help her out of reflex, his mind spinning.

"Thank you, dear." The professor said, her voice high and so much different than what Harry heard before. He gave her the cards he had collected and looked at her frightened, trying to school his reaction to calm neutrality. This was the woman that had predicted the fall of the Dark Lord, the same woman that had, unwittingly, made one of the prophecies that led him into his current situation. And now… if what she had said was true, then… He knew she wouldn't remember but he had to ask;

"Professor, you just said… you said…" Her face was blank if not confused; as it happened with all seers, she had no idea what had just happened. Harry just shook his head and rose from the floor.

"Yes dear?" She asked confused.

"Nothing. It was nothing." He said. It wasn't her that he should inform; it would be better if she didn't know. She would be safe that way.

"You're not one of my students." She said looking at him carefully.

"No, my brother is. I'm Harry. Harry Potter." The Professor nodded in understanding and fixed her shawl, ready to leave, still a little frazzled. She bid him goodbye but Harry didn't greet her back. His brother! She had just predicted the return of the Dark Lord but more immediately, she had predicted the return of his most faithful servant, a man under bonds for twelve years. Tonight. His mind immediately flew to Peter Pettigrew. He had to tell someone. Severus. He had to reach Severus!

He broke into a run straight for the dungeons, praying Severus would be there; his blood was rushing to his head, his heart drumming in his ears. And he ran and ran, feeling that that was what he did his whole life; running to prevent what now seemed unavoidable. He flew past some students just leaving for Hogsmeade, ignoring their startled cries. He could see the stairs to the dungeons and he picked up his speed. Before he knew it he found himself banging at Severus's office door with all his might.

"What in Merlin's… Harry?" The potions master stated looking at the panting teen in front of him, ushering him inside. Was he  _crying_? And he was, out of pure frustration. "Harry what happened?" He closed and locked the door behind them.

"Dad." Was all Harry uttered before running and hugging the potions master with all he had. He was scared no, he was terrified.

"Harry, calm down." Severus kneeled in front of the trembling teenager and looked at him straight in the eyes. Harry had stopped crying but the panic he found in his look was enough to make his heart freeze. "Tell me what happened." Harry breathed in deeply, trying to regain his composure. He had to tell Severus.

"I was coming back from the library…" He looked at the book lying on the floor; he must have picked it up at some point only to drop it here again. "I was returning from the library when I ran into Professor Trelawney…" He did his best to tell him the prophecy as faithfully as possible; it wasn't that hard as the words seemed burned on his brain. Severus expression grew graver with each and every word. At the end all he could do was close his eyes tight and sigh.

"Have you told anyone?" He asked, his voice deep. Harry shook his head negatively.

"Not even Trelawney." Severus gave him a small, proud smile; even at thirteen and fully understanding what had just happened, he had managed to keep his head.

"We must inform Dumbledore. Now." Harry nodded and followed the potions master out the office. Severus stopped at the door. "Harry?"

"Yes?" Green eyes met onyx ones.

"No matter what happens today, we'll deal with it. You can do this and you're not alone." Harry smiled shakily, trying to keep calm.

"Thank you, Dad."

"Hey, that's what I'm here for." Severus stated. "It's all in the job description." The walk to the Headmaster's office was fast but less frantic than the one to the dungeons. Infinite possibilities pooled inside Harry's mind.  _The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible than he ever was…_  It was really happening then. Maybe not today but someday soon. And as he stood at the entrance of Dumbledore's office next to Severus, he swore he'd be ready to face him when the time came. He'd do anything. Somehow, he'd make it.


	40. A Kidnapping And A Rat

"Severus!" Albus Dumbledore greeted the potions master of his school with a smile. "And young Harry?" He asked, his face turning perplexed and the serious as he observed the solemn faces of the two people in front of him. "What happened?" That seemed to be the question of the day, Harry thought sarcastically.

"Harry has heard something that you should be informed of immediately." Severus stated icily; there was no other way to this than just approaching it straightforward. And this was once prophecy Dumbledore needed to know. Harry nodded and repeated again what had happened during his encounter with Professor Trelawney. The Headmaster looked at the boy almost disbelieving at first before his expression turned grave.

"Would you mind it, my boy, if you showed me that memory?" He pointed at his pensive that was place on one of the many selves in the office.

"I wouldn't mind." Harry stated simply as he approached the pensive.

"Now focus on the memory of that incident." Albus asked and Harry did as he said; he could cast the spell needed himself but the Headmaster wasn't going to know more than what was absolutely necessary. He felt the tip of a wand against his temple as he thought of the prophecy he had heard only a few minutes ago. A silver thread, a copy of his memory of the event locked on the wand and Dumbledore carefully placed it in the pensive; he motioned Severus to step closer and soon the two men were immersed in the memory. Once they had watched the whole incident, Severus looked back at Harry compassion colouring his otherwise icy façade. The Headmaster was too absorbed at what he had seen to notice.

"Do you want me to call Lupin and Black?" Severus asked, his tone betraying none of his feelings.

"Yes." The Headmaster stated. "Please do, Severus. And escort Harry back to his common room. I'll call Lily and James." Harry was about to protest; he wanted to stay! He  _should_  stay! But how could he request such a thing? Severus cast him a glance that showed his understanding and silently conveyed a promise to tell him everything that happened. Soon. Harry gritted his teeth and nodded. At least Severus understood.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir?" Harry said as he turned to leave.

"Yes, Harry?" The Headmaster didn't even look at him as he spoke, his attention focused on his pensive and the swirling memory the teen had just provided. The green eyed boy felt anger rise inside him; was it too much for him to spare one look?

"Please notify my brother." He said. "Adrian has to know." Maybe that would stop him from doing something reckless as he feared his brother was planning. The Headmaster finally tore his eyes from the pensive long enough to look at the young wizard briefly and nod.

"If your brother is at the common room send him here. If not wait for him to return and tell him to come find me to moment you see him. Don't speak of this to anybody." Harry nodded once and left the room, following Severus. The potions master could practically feel the anger radiating from the teen in waves. He could relate; that old fool! How could he be so blind?

"Harry?" Severus called as they walked. Not wanting to respond in case his answer was less than pleasant, the boy just looked at him, indicating he was listening. "He's a fool and a blind fool at that." The potions master stated. "You'll just have to knock some sense into him one day." Harry smiled slightly, feeling some of his anger leaving him.

"One day I will." Harry promised him. "You just watch me." Severus nodded and left Harry in the Grand staircase; the teen headed to the common room while the potions master went to inform the two Defence teachers. Harry had to practically drag himself up to Gryffindor tower and, when he reached the common room, all he could do was plop onto a couch and lean back staring at the ceiling. His brother wasn't in the room but he would be back soon; were could he go after all? It's not as if the Dementors would let him pass them by; a wanted criminal sure, but definitely not a teenage boy, he thought bitterly. Neville walked in then, his eyes zeroing immediately on the forlorn form of his best friend.

"Harry." He said as he sat opposite him on the couch. "What's wrong?" Harry sighed and looked at his friend helplessly; now more than ever he wished he could just say what had happened. And, caution be damned, he had to say something of what it was that bothered him before he exploded.

"Adrian might be in trouble, Nev." The teen stated simply, fingers running over his eyes and through his black locks. "We all might be."

"I suppose you're not going to elaborate?" Neville asked, a small smile appearing on his face.

"I can't Neville." He couldn't just blurt out everything about the prophecy he had just heard. He refused to panic Neville for one and two, maybe it was too soon for him to talk about it too. He hadn't even come to terms with what he had heard himself.

"I can't, Neville." He simply stated, lowering his eyes. Maybe he didn't deserve such a loyal friend, he thought.

"Am I right to think you weren't even supposed to have told me what you just did?" There was some humour in his voice, so Harry's eyes snapped up from were they were locked on the floor and locked with his friend's brown ones.

"Technically, I promised not to breathe a word to anybody." Harry admitted, a soft smile finding its way on his face, noticing how Neville didn't appear to be mad at him.

"Well then." The teen said, pulling out his Herbology textbook. "If that's the case, I'll just sit here and read, keeping you company, while we both pretend you told me nothing." And he winked at Harry who grinned back at him.

"One day, Nev, I'll explain everything." Harry promised and his friend smiled, nodding once. Harry knew Neville didn't understand the gravity of his promise but he would keep it nonetheless. "And thank you for understanding."

"I'm just amazing that way." Neville said shrugging, causing Harry to laugh for the first time since the prophecy incident.

"Yes, you are." Harry agreed as he closed his eyes, falling silent, the latest problem he had found himself in unfolding inside his head once more.

His mind battled with all the possible scenarios, one idea darker than the next. Voldemort coming back could only mean one thing; war. He had heard the stories of what it was like back at the first war against the Dark Lord. If he was supposed to come back stronger than he ever was, he couldn't dare to think what would happen this time around. His mind remained immersed in dark thoughts for the next couple of hours as he looked at the sum move outside the window. It was noon before he knew it and soon he was supposed to go to the Great Hall for lunch. Not that he felt like it, but he had to eat. Well, he thought without making an effort to move, there's always dinner. Neville didn't move from the couch either and Harry took some comfort from his best friend's presence.

It wasn't until after the first students started returning from the Great Hall and Hogsmead that his mind was able to move past the shock and realise what was wrong with this whole picture. He rose from his spot, his heart picking up speed again; he looked at the faces around the common room. All familiar of course, but not the one he was looking for. Where the hell was his brother? Harry jumped up and approached Ginny who was studying on a desk next to the fireplace.

"Ginny, have you seen my brother?" The girl looked at his troubled expression and decided to skip pleasantries.

"Not since breakfast." She said and watched in fear as the usually pale teen blanched even more. "Why?" Harry opened his mouth to speak when two cheerful voices called him from the entrance. Fred and George had returned from Hogsmeade with their hands filled with tricks from Zonko's and their faces flushed.

"Hey Harry!" George called him, dropping his staff on a desk, a little further away. Harry moved closer to them; he might as well ask them to. But before he could utter a word, Fred leaned in and whispered conspiratorially;

"Back already?" Harry's eyes widened in surprise.

"Back from where?" He asked. George and Fred shared a roguish look.

"Of course." George stated as if Harry's question had settled everything. "If someone asks you were here all morning. Gotcha!" The green eyed teen looked at them infuriated; he really didn't have time for this.

"What are you talking about?" The twins looked at him surprised. They looked at each other again and then at back at Harry; the look on his face seemed to make something click in their minds.

"But…" Fred looked at Harry confused. "Weren't you in Hogsmeade? With Adrian? Didn't he take you along?" Green eyes opened wide and his heart skipped a beat. Adrian was in Hogsmeade? Right now? Today of all days?

"What?" He spat shocked.

"He didn't tell you?" George asked. "Blimey Harry, we thought that after we gave him… we thought that he would share!" Harry tried to process what he had just heard; the twins seemed to have given something to Adrian that allowed him to leave the castle at will; they easily could do that as he had seen them bringing things sold at Hogsmeade more than once. They had suspected he would share that something but he obviously didn't. Well, he thought bitterly as he looked back at the hushed conversations with Ron, his brother hadn't shared it with  _him_.

"Listen carefully." Harry began, his voice dark. "Tell me what you gave my brother that could lead him out of the castle. Tell me  _now_." His voice never rose, but the icy tone he had used made the twins talk faster than a shouting mach would have.

"It's a map we found at Filch's office, a map of the school." Fred explained as Harry's heart fell. It couldn't be…

"It marks the exits from the school, secret passages and stuff." George added.

"Adrian looked so down, we thought it would cheer him up and…"

"You gave him the Marauders' Map?" Harry asked, interrupting a confused Fred.

"You know about it? But Adrian hasn't shown it to you?" Harry didn't even spare them another look. He completely ignored their calls; he simply cursed in Gobbledegook and ran out the common room again only sparing one backwards glance towards Neville who nodded in understanding. He headed back to the Headmaster's office, reaching it in lightning speed and shouting the password at the entrance; he entered the office without even knocking. Severus, his parents, Sirius and Remus as well as the Headmaster were there, all looking grave and shocked at the youngest Potter twin's sudden entrance.

"Adrian went to Hogsmeade! He's not in the school!" He gasped out. "And he hasn't come back yet!"

"What?" James asked stunned. "Harry, what are you talking about?"

"Fred and George Weasley had the Marauders' Map, they got it from Filch's office somehow and gave it to Adrian a few days ago." Harry explained hastily as realisation dawned into everyone's faces; even Severus had heard of the map through Harry. "I just met them in the common room and they asked me if I had returned from Hogsmeade already; they said that Adrian had gone and they had expected me to be with him."

"Merlin!" Lily exclaimed, covering her face with her hands and falling down on a chair.

"Are you sure, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

"I didn't even know the Weasley twins had the map, let alone that  _Adrian_  had it but I haven't seen him since breakfast." Harry stated. The Headmaster nodded and sprang into action.

"We must look for him immediately." He stated. He turned to his phoenix. "Fawkes, inform the staff." The phoenix trilled and disappeared in flames. "The protocol dictates all students should gather in the front gates of the castle in cases of emergence. We shall go there first and look…  _not_  for Adrian but for Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger as it's likely the boy has the cloak with him. There's no time to lose, I fear." They all nodded and left, leaving Harry back in the office alone with a disbelieving potions master.

"I can't believe they just left me here!" The boy seethed at Severus.

"And I must go too." The potions master said. "Harry, I know you want to, but you can't follow this time." Harry was about to protest but realised he really couldn't; the passages were filled with anti-animagi wards and the Dementors guarded all other exits. Severus could walk out of the castle if he went along with Sirius and Minerva but, should Harry try to leave the castle through one of the passages, the alarms would ring and turn the attention to him. And even though Harry was fairly certain he could outrun the professors and exit the castle, there simply was no way Harry could let them stop looking for Adrian just to chase after such a distraction.

" _Bârzuln!_ " He had reverted into cursing in Gobbledegook again and Severus offered a tight lipped smile.

"I have to go." Harry nodded. "Go back to the common room and hex that brother of yours something awful if he gets back safe on his own before the search is over." Harry nodded and Severus walked to the door. "I'll bring Adrian back." Severus stated. "Do you trust me with this?"

"Of course I do." Severus nodded once and left the office in a hurry. He had to catch up with the others and resist hexing them something awful himself; how could they just leave Harry like that? He might just have saved his brother - _again_ even if they didn't know that- and they had just ignored him? It was a wonder why he still wanted to help sometimes… He ran down the corridors in a frenetic state, finally catching up with the rest of the search party in the Great Hall.

"What took you so long, Severus?" Lily asked agitated. For the first time in his life, Severus looked at the beautiful woman in front of him with incredulous irritation.

"Your son." He stated simply.

"My son is out there, probably in danger!" Lily exclaimed seriously. It was her desperation talking at the moment but still… Severus had never really looked at Lily and found a flaw. But now… Not knowing what to say to her or how to react he was for once relieved at Sirius's interruption.

"We're ready to go, Lily. The students are gathering." The redhead turned and run out the doors immediately. Severus tried to do the same when a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"What is it, Black?" The potions master asked irritated. He really didn't have time for the dog's antics at the moment.

"Thank you." That completely caught Severus off guard. He looked at the man in front of him curiously.

"For what?"

"For what you did just now for Harry. There might still be hope for you after all, as much as it pains me to admit it." Severus's eyes widened but he nodded once. Sirius nodded back and let go of his shoulder just as Remus walked in. The werewolf stopped and nodded his thanks at the potions master too before asking them to come out for the search. Severus just watched the two men leave the hall running, his head reeling.

"There might still be hope for you too." He muttered softly, hasting to catch up once again.

The search seemed to be going on for ages, as far as the Head of Slytherin was concerned; they had all the students accounted for but Adrian and his two friends. Severus was ready to commit murder and the most possible victim was one Albus Dumbledore for more reasons than he cared to relay. At the moment it was the fact that he just stood lost at the middle of a search while the rest of the world was panicking. And he had given a promise to Harry.

"He's not here…" James muttered. "Where can he be?" Severus approached the Headmaster, passing by the panicking Auror; he didn't even wanted to think what he would have been doing had Harry gone missing instead. But Harry would never be as irrational as to just throw a cloak over himself and run; he hadn't been raised like that.

"Call the Aurors, Albus." Severus offered hastily. "Have them comb the forest as we search the village." The older wizard regarded the young man blinking once, twice before regaining his wits.

"James!" He called strongly. "Summon the Aurors! We're widening the search!" Severus exclaimed in relief as he joined the team that would search the village; Lily and James joined the Aurors that apparated just outside the gates, spreading around the school in search for the missing students; Molly and Arthur arrived soon afterwards, Severus noticed, adding yet another frightened pair of parents searching for their children.

He was getting restless, walking around Hogsmeade, checking every road and alley; it had been almost half an hour and the group of three -himself, Remus and Sirius and who would have thought that would ever happen?- were searching the lower part of the village. He was seriously contemplating to demolish a wall that was simply in his way when he heard Lupin's voice from the next alley.

"Over here! Hurry!" He called, his voice resonating in the empty streets; the village had been evacuated, all inhabitants transported temporarily in Hogwarts. Severus ran over to where the werewolf stood, hunched over the prone form of a girl; it was Hermione Granger, Severus realised as Remus cast an  _Enervate_  spell on her. The girl opened her eyes and stood still for a second before starting to panic, looking around frantically as if she was searching for someone.

"He's got him! Please go find them! Please!" The girl cried out in fear as Remus tried to hold her down. Severus was just about ready to run off to the direction the girl pointed out but he realised that he didn't even know who had taken whom and where. All this could end up being something completely different. He hoped it would. Sirius brushed past him and kneeled down to face a crying Hermione.

"What happened, Hermione?" The man was shaking but his voice was calm; if the situation wasn't that dire, Severus might even have admitted that Sirius was acting his age for the first time ever in his presence.

"Ron and I were walking out of the Three Broomsticks. We were…" Her voice wavered and broke, fresh tears spilling from her eyes. "We were arguing about something silly and then we heard Adrian's voice calling out to us. I was shocked but Ron knew he would come; they said they wanted to surprise me." She wiped some of her tears away but new ones just came pouring down. If Severus wasn't certain that a comforting word from him would unnerve her even more, he would have done just that, facades be damned; the poor child was breaking down in front of his eyes.

"You saw Adrian?" Remus asked, giving Hermione some time to compose herself.

"No." She mouthed. "He was wearing his invisibility cloak. We just followed his voice and once we turned into an alley he took the cloak just a little off to prove he was him. We walked around for a while, Adrian invisible again, and I was trying to convince him that he should return to the school; the outing was almost over anyway but he said that nothing could happen with the cloak on. We walked for a little more before we heard the teachers calling us to gather in the front gates. Ron said something bad must have happened and Adrian ran off to a side street saying that he would go back to the castle. Ron and I walked forward and that's when…" She started crying again as Remus patted her comfortingly in the back.

"Was it Pettigrew?" Sirius asked. She nodded it was. "And he has taken Adrian?" The dog animagus had gone completely pale. Severus's head was spinning a little too. How could it all have gone so wrong?

"No!" Hermione whimpered, as three pair of eyes zeroed on her. "He took  _Ron_!"

" _Ron_?" Sirius asked confused.

"He didn't realise Adrian was with us! He jumped up on Ron and grabbed his wand. He pointed it at him and grabbed him from his shirt. He said that when I woke up I should tell Adrian and only him what had happened and then warn him that, if he wanted to see his best friend alive, he should come at the Shrieking Shack alone." She started panicking again. "But I saw Adrian in the corner, he'd pulled out his wand and the cloak rippled for a while, before Pettigrew stunned me!"

"So Adrian attacked him?" Remus asked terrified.

"I don't know!" Hermione shook her head.

"Can you walk, Hermione?" The girl nodded once decisively. "Good; I want you to go and tell everyone where we are; the next team of Aurors is looking for you guys close to Zonko's. You think you can walk that far?" Sirius asked.

"I think I can."

"Go and tell them to wait outside the Whomping Willow, okay?" The girl looked perplexed but decided to just go with the instructions she was given. She stood up with Remus's help and took off, casting one last glance at the three men. Sirius conjured his patronus to send directions to James and prepared to apparate.

"The Whomping Willow?" Severus asked. "The Shrieking Shack is just a mile from here."  
"You can't enter it from Hogsmeade." Sirius explained. "Albus warded it when we were kids; the only way in is hidden in that blasted tree." Severus nodded and apparated with the two friends. Their feet touched the ground of the forest the very moment a group of five men led by James walked out behind some thick bushes and towards them; Sirius ran to inform them of what had happened exactly as they all marched, wands in hand, out of the forest and towards the tree.

Severus was certain something would go wrong; everything was going too fast. They had all gone from naught to one hundred and fifty faster than the Firebolt and they had no plan whatsoever. Pettigrew was waiting in the Shrieking Shack, that was sure; if he wasn't they would have found the Weasley boy already, the potions master figured. Dead of course, for if he had Adrian he would have gotten rid of any spare weight.

The potions master lit the tip of his wand; night was falling and the castle's lights were too far away to help them. He watched carefully as Sirius transformed into a black dog and deftly crawled around the assaulting branches to press a knot on the trunk. The tree stopped moving in an instant as the rest of the wizards approached; Sirius turned back and stood straight, walking back to the group.

"Listen now." James began, addressing the Aurors of his group. "One child is definitely in there along with a wanted and unstable criminal. It's possible that my son's there too." He stopped for a second, trying to get to grips with what was happening. "The passageway is too small for all of us to go at once so we'll have to enter one at a time. Andrews, Hunter," two of the Aurors nodded. "I want you to inform the rest of the groups and guard that entrance; if Pettigrew comes out before we do, stop him. Kill him if you must." The Aurors nodded and James turned to the rest of the group. "Now Sirius you and I go first and…" Severus tuned James out, his attention captured by something at the bottom of the tree, his eyes widened as he pointed at the sorry excuse of a man that had just appeared.

"You!" Lupin exclaimed; the werewolf had seen Pettigrew too. Everyone turned to the convict who stood frozen, nobody moving for a second. Most were just shocked; Severus was making sure the two boys weren't with him before he cast a spell; the clouds parted and Lupin growled. He _growled_? And all hell broke loose.

As the moonlight bathed everything in silver everyone burst into motion; Remus fell on the ground, his back arching as the transformation began; this was going to be very bad, Severus immediately realised. Remus hadn't drunk his potion that day. How did he know? Simple; he'd never got around to deliver it. A frantic Harry had burst into his office just as he was preparing to do so and, needless to say, it had slipped his mind afterwards.

"Stand back!" Sirius, who must have had the same thought, yelled. "I don't think he drunk his potion today!" Everyone did as instructed while he turned into a dog for the second time in a few minutes. The transformation was almost complete when a second one began; Pettigrew, taking advantage of the situation transformed into a rat himself; Severus moved to hex him when Adrian -a gash still bleeding on his face and looking generally ruffled- exited the secret passageway and stepped right between the potions master and his target. The boy noticed Pettigrew changing into a rat and making his escape and did just what Severus feared; he ran after him.

"Adrian,  _no_!" James called and chased after his son. Severus took one look behind him; Lupin had fully transformed and was at the moment fighting with Sirius while the Aurors had run for cover. He ducked and rolled away as Lupin turned his attention to him, barely avoiding getting hurt by the werewolf's claws. He dodged for a little longer until Sirius regained enough strength to keep distracting his out of control friend. Severus stood up and looked towards the Whomping Willow; there was no sign of James or Adrian.

Borrowing a page from Harry's book, he cursed quite fluently in Gobbledegook and began his pursuit; how far could they have gotten? He was running towards the general direction James had headed to. The darkness didn't make his job any easier and the fact that they seemed to be headed towards the lake, trough yet another patch of thick forest, didn't help either. He mostly used James's calls to his son as a guide, but even that wasn't enough to aid him catch up. No, what truly pointed him to the right direction was the cold; the lake was close to the school's borders. That meant it was being patrolled by Dementors. Dementors who wouldn't care if the person they hunted down was a convicted killer or a student; all that would matter was that someone was trying to pass through them.

Not quite believing he was running  _towards_  Dementors, Severus picked up his speed and headed for the lake. The cold was getting stronger as he marched through the snow and he forcefully pushed all the dark thoughts in his head away; he had promised Harry he would bring his brother back. And since that promise wasn't exactly a happy memory, it couldn't be taken from him; it kept propelling him forward. The scene he faced once he reached the lake almost stopped his heart.

Adrian had passed out, laying on the pebbles by the frozen lake while James was standing over him, conjuring a patronus over and over; the silver stag that erupted from his wand only worked for a while before it wavered and disappeared, hitting the seemingly unbreakable wall of Dementors. Because gliding over the lake and slowly approaching the two men were dozens of the dark creatures, coming closer to the two forms menacingly.

Severus cursed as yet another of James spells flickered out of existence and the man fell on his knees, his breath coming out short; facing so many Dementors alone was practically suicide even when one wasn't in emotional turmoil and frightened for their son's life and trying to do just that had already taken its toll on James who cast one last patronus and then fell on the ground next to his son. Severus watched as the silver stag flickered and fainted; one suicide attempt coming up, he thought mock cheeringly and stepped out from the trees where he was standing.

The Dementors were still heading for the two prone forms on the shore, quite unaware of a third wizard approaching the scene; it had been ages since Severus had cast a patronus. It had been on the grounds of the school again, but he was still a student back then. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't do it; Harry had trusted him and he would never let his son down. Focusing just on that, he called his patronus and had it charge towards the Dementors; it cast a silver light over the frozen lake, making it look almost beautiful as it went. But that wasn't what had caught Severus's attention.

Everything is turning into wolves tonight, he thought numbly as he observed the silver creature carefully; there was no mistaking that for a doe. It was a wolf, tall and proud, abut the same size as Harry's patronus but not quite identical. It was a little leaner and maybe just a tick shorter, just as Harry was when he transformed into a wolf. That sudden realisation brought along a much greater internal change than what Severus had expected. At that very moment he felt…  _free_.

It was as if his axis had tipped over and he finally realised that he didn't have to keep on going ruled by his past. A ripple of joy shimmered through him and the silver wolf shone brighter, taking down the screeching Dementors one by one. That patronus was his future, shining bright and promising; he could never forget his past, that was certain. But he wasn't ruled by it anymore; unconsciously he had understood that already, it seemed, as the silver wolf chased away the last of the Dementors from the lake. It was time he made a conscious decision to let go too.

The patronus approached him, having finished its work; it was taller than he was but bowed its head, gently leaning into Severus's touch as the potions master ruffled its fur. It spared him one last look and disappeared, leaving a smiling Severus in its wake. He looked at the two prone forms by the lake and approached them speedily, coming up with a viable alternative story of what had happened that could tone down his involvement; he hoped that James was really out cold by the time he summoned his last patronus. The potions master chuckled once again as he made sure both Potters were breathing and cast a rain of green sparks from his wand for the rest of the teams to spot them. He just couldn't wait to tell Harry what had happened, he thought, as he waited for the search groups to arrive.

 


	41. Breakthrough

Harry was seated across his brother's bed, his hands covering his eyes tiredly as he heard the story of what had happened from Ron. The redhead was the only one of the three occupants of the infirmary that was awake so far, James having been given a dreamless potion a few hours earlier and Adrian still not having woken up. Lily had panicked briefly when her husband woke up before her son but Madame Pomfrey stated that was only to be expected; Adrian had been tired already before he encountered the Dementors and, for the brief moments while he was awake, James had stated the boy had cast a patronus to fight them off.

"We were at Hogsmeade." Ron said, trying to get more comfortable; the Aurors had found him a little after they recovered James and Adrian, unconscious and with a broken leg on the floor of the Shrieking Shack. "All of the sudden, that madman jumped out of nowhere, grabbed my wand and started threatening to kill me if Hermione didn't call for Adrian to meet him in the Shrieking Shack; he stunned her and apparated with me to the borders of the forest before he stunned me too; next thing I know, I'm in the Shrieking Shack and he's mumbling how he has to do all the work while she waits to be rescued…"

"She?" Dumbledore asked; he had entered the infirmary a few minutes after Harry himself had been fetched to the hospital wing but not before he had a fight with the Minister over the immediate removal of the Dementors from the school's grounds. Harry heard McGonagall whisper to Madam Pomfrey that the Headmaster had even reached for his wand at some point. Bottom line, the Dementors had been immediately removed and were dispatched to various places across the surrounding areas in a new search for the once again escapee. Because while the guards of Azkaban were focused on almost killing James and Adrian, the rat had made a run for it; chances were he was halfway to London by that time.

"I didn't dare to ask him who she was but I didn't have to either." Ron continued. "He just kept going, talking to himself. He said a year ago they had moved Bellatrix Lestrange in the cell next to his…"

"Bellatrix Lestrange?" Lily asked, her eyes wide. She shared a terrified look with Molly as Dumbledore motioned the boy to continue.

"It was her idea, the escape. She knew that Pettigrew is an animagus and started keeping tab on the wards. From what he said she could feel they had been cast?" Ron sounded surprised at that specific bit of information but Harry just took it stoically. He knew it was possible to sense magic that had been cast on a specific object and wards left an especially strong and lasting trace; he had been training on the subject himself as it was necessary for most parts of blood magic. It made sense that a witch as powerful as Bellatrix would know. Powerful and deranged to boot, Harry mused. Dumbledore, who obviously had had similar thoughts, nodded.

"She would be able to do that, yes." He confirmed, nodding his head gravely.

"Then he said he had agreed to come to Hogwarts and try to lure Adrian away of his guardians if she told him when he would be able to transform and escape Azkaban. That's when Adrian came in." Ron explained.

"What happened then?" Lily asked, holding the hand of her eldest son as he lay sleeping.

"Pettigrew was surprised." The redhead said. "He hadn't thought that Adrian would arrive that fast but Adrian must have stepped on a rotten board or something because he made some noise and Pettigrew managed to dodge the stunner Adrian threw at him." Ron swallowed hard and his mother fetched him some water before he continued, having drained the glass. "Thanks, Mum. Anyway, he took cover and told Adrian to remove his cloak or he'd hurt me; Adrian didn't move fast enough I guess, because he pointed his wand at me and cast the spell that broke my leg." The boy winced at the memory and Harry did the same in sympathy.

"Oh, my poor baby!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed and hugged her youngest son tightly. Ron blushed a deep crimson, embarrassed to be hugged by his mother in the presence of his Headmaster.

"I'm fine, Mum." He assured her and she reluctantly pulled away.

"So, Adrian removed his cloak after that, I assume." Dumbledore continued with his questioning.

"He did." Ron confirmed. "Pettigrew said something about always hating that cloak and how Adrian's Dad never let him use it alone. Then I guess Adrian tried to buy some time so that he could think what to do because he started asking him staff about why he was doing this and how did he manage to enter Hogwarts despite the Dementors…" At least his brother had asked the right questions, Harry thought resigned.

"Did Pettigrew answer?" Dumbledore asked, his attention completely focused on the young Gryffindor. Ron squirmed uneasily under the penetrating blue gaze but answered nonetheless, his voice a little more timid.

"He said that he would join You-Know-Who and help him return; he said that he would be rewarded as his most loyal servant." Harry clenched his eyes shut, momentarily allowing himself to dive into his complete and utter hate for prophecies. That was when he realised that Ron had stopped speaking. He peered at the boy to find him looking, quite curiously, at Professor McGonagall.

"And did he say how he managed to enter the castle?" Dumbledore asked. Ron looked indecisive about actually wording any form of answer to that question and Harry braced himself; how bad could it be, he thought before inwardly cursing. That question was the best way to provoke the Fates and he should know better by now.

"He did." Ron admitted reluctantly.

"How?" The whole room was staring at him expectantly -except from Harry who was staring at his hands, partly intrigued, partly cautious- and Ron gulped.

"He said the original plan was to simply run out from Azkaban and try to leave on the first boat to dry land but…" The boy stopped again and looked at the Transfiguration teacher as if asking for permission.

"No one blames you for what happened, Mr. Weasley." She assured him. Somehow Harry thought that wasn't the root of the problem. And he was right.

"It's just… He said that he was hiding in a crack of a wall next to his cage as nobody was searching for him that close." He gulped and went on. "He said he was there when you came over Professor." The boy said timidly, startling the Head of Gryffindor House. Severus, who up to that moment was staying as far from the centre of attention as possible, shared a confused look with Harry from across the room.

"But what…" Ron didn't let her complete her sentence as it seemed he had decided the best way to go was simply say what he wanted to say in one breath.

"You were shouting at the guards and standing right in front of where he was hiding; he said he just climbed up your robes and into your jacket pocket. He jumped out the moment you returned to Hogwarts." The moments that followed were deafening in their silence. Harry looked swiftly at the robes his Transfiguration teacher was wearing and winced at how easy it would be for an emaciated wizard turned rat to do just that; McGonagall was very fond of long, flowing robes, usually in plaid. And, having seen her enraged before, Harry had no reason to believe she would be focused on anything other than venting her anger at that point in time.

"But… How…" McGonagall had turned an ashen shade of grey, slumping on her chair and looking smaller than ever; for the first time in his life, Harry noticed that she was actually shorter than his mother. With the way she held herself, she had always given the impression of being strong and imposing and seeing her like that was just… wrong. Harry cursed Pettigrew a little harder just for that.

"Are you certain about that, Mr. Weasley?" Dumbledore asked, looking at the now crying professor sympathetically. Ron nodded, making McGonagall sob silently in her handkerchief. Molly, Lily and Madam Pomphrey ran to her side, trying to console her as much as possible.

"He said that that's how he moved in and out the school too; he just waited for either Sirius or Professor McGonagall to pass through a passageway and slithered out when it was dark enough for him to hide in the shadows." Dumbledore rubbed his eyes tiredly and motioned for Ron to go on.

"Then Adrian asked him why did he try to enter the common room on Halloween when nobody was there; he said he knew about the Marauders' Map. He had seen Fred and George using it." It was the twins' turn to blanche, freckles looking that more prominent on their face. The whole Weasley family moved closer to them almost as if it was a reflex and Harry smiled slightly besides the news.

"But how did he know of the map?" George asked confused.

"He's Wormtail." Lily muttered, causing the twins to startle even more.

"He told us it was the only way they could spot him and that acquiring it would also help him know where Adrian was all the time." Ron added, not liking the way his usually cheerful brothers were looking at the moment.

"But we never saw him on the map!" Fred protested.

"You wouldn't." Harry spoke for the first time in hours, the attention momentarily shifting on him. "He'd only show up on the map if he was walking in the corridors or some specific room; but as a rat he could walk through cracks on the walls and he knew all the secret passageways; he wouldn't appear on the map either while he was there. Sirius told me." Looking at the confused Weasley twins he hastened to explain. "Sirius is Padfoot." That latest revelation appeared to shock the twins completely into silence.

"Well, he tried to hex Adrian next." Ron stated, really wanting to get this whole thing over with; he was getting sleepy at that point and Harry couldn't really blame him. He just tried not to focus that hard on how close his brother had gotten to get killed that night. "But Adrian dodged and started casting back; they moved around the room for a while but Adrian finally managed to disarm him. Pettigrew was close to the door at that point so he chose to flee. Adrian waited for a few seconds to see if he was coming back, ran to me to make sure I wasn't hurt besides my leg and then ran after him. I don't know what happened after that. I think I must've fainted because next thing I remember, some Aurors were waking me up and bringing me here."

"That's how he got the gash on his cheek? Adrian, I mean." Lily asked, touching the now completely healed and smooth part of her elder son's face tenderly.

"No, I think he had that when he walked in." Ron said. The Whomping Willow then, Harry guessed. Severus took the lead then and explained in a few short sentences from how they had found Hermione and how they had come to Ron and Adrian's rescue to Remus's transformation and James's pursuit of Adrian.

"I followed them once I managed to get away from Lupin but they were already far ahead; the moment I got to there I saw Adrian fainted by the lake and just managed to witness Potter casting his patronus. The one he had conjured had just dispersed but before I managed to do anything he casted one more spell and fainted too. I… don't know exactly why that was but that last patronus seemed brighter and chased the Dementors away." Dumbledore nodded as if he understood something more than the rest, a hidden meaning behind an incident Harry correctly presumed was fabricated.

"You'd be surprised, Severus, at what a man protecting his child would do if he thought they were both about to die; limits seize to exist at that point, even in magic. Perhaps especially in magic." Lilly looked at her husband affectionately as Severus mused that while yes, what the Headmaster said was the truth -he had felt that every time Harry had been in trouble- maybe he shouldn't try to explain events based on experiences he'd never had. It was harsh, he figured, but at that point he didn't really care; the Headmaster wasn't one of his favourite people in the world at the moment. Harry just noted he'd have to ask Severus for the true story later on.

He got his chance a few hours before dawn when his brother finally woke up and Dumbledore began questioning him after they made certain he was alright; the Weasleys had left a little over three in the morning when Ron had fallen asleep and, as such, when Adrian began talking and Harry was allowed -more than ordered by an agitated school nurse- to leave the room, while Severus excused himself and followed him. They didn't need to talk to understand Harry wasn't going to his common room just yet.

"So, Prongs fought off a hundred Demetors with a single patronus while passing out?" Harry asked a few minutes later, after the door to Severus's office had been shut and locked.

"Could've happened! I'll have you know that one, James apparently knows how to cast a patronus and two, it's absolutely possible to fight off that number of Dementors with a single patronus." Severus stated evenly. "On other news, my patronus isn't a doe anymore; everything's been turning into wolves lately." Harry regarded the older man carefully for a second, before bursting into laughter.

"Of course. Did you notice how people always conveniently pass out when needed?" The teen asked, wiping a few tears from his face.

"It's fortunate that they do or we'd have to knock them out ourselves." Harry nodded, before staring into the flames in the fireplace. The silence was comfortable between them, but Severus could sense something was troubling Harry. "What are you thinking about?"

"What if I made the wrong choice, Dad?" Harry asked, looking at the surprised potions master next to him.

"Wrong choice? How?" Harry looked deep in thought; when he spoke again, it was mostly to himself.

"What if I had come out and said I'm the Boy Who Lived? Would my brother be on a hospital bed right now?" Severus wasn't as taken aback at his question as he had thought he'd be.

"Harry, that's an impossible question to answer." Large green eyes turned to him expectantly. "Not only I can't know how things would have turned out if you had, I can't even tell you what would happen if you told them now. Harry, you might have told them, but would that have changed your character? Your brother's?"

"I don't think so. Why do you ask?"

"Because," Severus explained "I believe your brother would have ended it up in that bed tonight one way or another." The boy looked at him confused before Severus continued. "Adrian mightn't have told you of what he was planning tonight, but you would have told him were your roles switched. He would probably be in the same situation as Ron right now." Harry nodded at the truth of that statement; he would have told his brother, at least he wanted to believe he would. "And don't forget," Severus continued "that if not for the training you went through, you might not have been able to deal with the situations you have as efficiently; look at Adrian. He's talented enough but, with whatever training he has undergone, he has only proven capable enough to handle a pretty much powerless traitor; I'm not saying that to belittle his abilities. Just the type of training he has received; Adrian is alive and you're alive today because of that choice you made. Never doubt that." Harry nodded once.

"It's just hard sometimes, not doubting myself." Severus chuckled darkly.

"It would be unnatural not to doubt yourself. Even Dumbledore does. Rarely and then dismisses the thought but still…" The flippant air in which the last statement was made brought up unwilling laughter that just wouldn't stop once it began.

"Thanks, Dad. I needed that." Severus nodded and then added softly.

"Besides," the potions master added far more subdued "Voldemort will return one day; we know that now for certain." His fists tightened at the thought. "And when he does come back, he won't stay under the illusion that it was your brother who stopped him for long. One close look and he'll know." He turned to Harry who had returned to watching the flames. "When that happens, Adrian will need all the protection he can have."

"The weakest link, right?" Harry asked, his voice deeper than ever. More mature than he should be, Severus mused gravely. He moved and clasped his shoulder in support.

"But he will have you. And you'll have me." Harry turned and smiled at the potions master.

"And we'll be ready, won't we?" Severus nodded.

"As ready as we can be."

The next week passed in a blur; the Christmas holidays came and a generally startled school body opted to abandon Hogwarts for the holidays. Harry was seething, looking at the ceiling of the dormitory as he lay on his bed; his parents had whisked Adrian away to Merlin knew where for added training; this time, Harry didn't even feel guilty for what his brother had to go through. The first day after the Pettigrew incident and after he was discharged from the infirmary, Adrian had been demure, taking all the bashing from their parents -and Harry's glares- stoically. But as the week progressed, he had seen the whole affair just like another adventure and was happily chatting away on what he wanted to do for Christmas.

Apparently, almost getting killed wasn't enough to dampen his spirits; and even though he didn't wish for his brother to lose that sparkle, that energy he had always had, Adrian had even gone as far as to say he would have chased after Bellatrix Lestrange herself if she had been there and hadn't just sent Pettigrew. Harry had just sat across the common room and listened tiredly, his mind so numb he couldn't even form a rant. Neville, who would be leaving the next day for the holidays, had sent him a sad look from where he sat next to him, silently conveying that he knew the trouble Harry had talked about hadn't even began yet. He never pushed him for answers; Harry couldn't have been more grateful.

The next day his parents sent him a letter asking him if he could stay at Hogwarts this Christmas; the latest prophecy had apparently forced them to move on with Adrian's training faster than anticipated; not even Christmas could be spared for resting. Harry wrote back that he understood and waved his brother goodbye; he just hoped they would understand too -if they ever found out- that he'd spend the holidays at Silbreith with Severus. After all, Christmas was a family holiday.

He was feeling rather bitter over the way things had turned out; Pettigrew had escaped, a prophecy wanted him bringing the rise of Voldemort and Adrian didn't seem to understand how easy his life could be taken away. And no one in his family -Severus aside- had even stopped to think of him; he hadn't really expected to be offered a training along Adrian and he didn't even want that. But a simple thank you for notifying them of Adrian not being in the castle -even if it was mentioned in that stupid letter his parents had sent him- would have sufficed.

Well, truth be told, it wasn't that no one in his family showed they cared; he had heard Sirius arguing on his case with Prongs. The dog animagus had suggested Harry should join them, offering himself and Remus as his teachers, but his friend wasn't convinced. They had to hurry, he had said and Adrian was the priority. Sirius seemed dejected but acknowledged he could do nothing more to convince his ever stubborn friend; the look in his eyes however foretold that he wasn't ready to drop the subject just yet. And while it stung to have his parents dismiss the thought of him in favour of his brother, having Sirius and Remus on his side was a salve on a long time festering wound. It felt great to know his godfather hadn't forgotten of their conversation that morning before everything went to hell.

He had visited Dumbledore's office the same night, just before the Headmaster left to join the rest of the Potters wherever they were. He had easily gained permission to stay at Severus's house instead of Hogwarts and left, petting Fawkes softly while Dumbledore was preparing, shrinking and packing instruments in a small pouch; the bird leaned into his touch softly as if sensing he needed the comfort.

It was now a day latter and he was patiently waiting in his dormitory alone for the clock to strike five; there had been an incident during the last potions class before the holidays and Severus had to clean the mess before they left for home. The green eyed wizard pulled out his notes on blood magic and proceeded to study what he had jotted down the night before; time ticked by and soon Harry found himself walking towards Severus's office. It was a very annoyed Severus that welcomed him at the door.

"Harry." He simply stated, rubbing gentle circles on his temples as they walked towards the fireplace.

"That bad, huh?" The boy asked smiling at the vexed expression on Severus's face.

"The cauldron melted, Harry. It melted." Harry sniggered as he grabbed a handful of floo powder and threw it in the flames, stepping inside as they changed colour. He stepped out of the much grander fireplace in Silbreith's hall waiting for Severus to floo in. The potions master did just that, a few seconds later, immediately lifting the charms of his person. Harry did the same, smiling softly at his reflection in the mirror on the opposite wall. It had been months since he had really looked at himself on the mirror; it was halfway surprising to see how he had grown up.

"I think I grew taller." The teen commented randomly, approaching the mirror. Realizing there was no answer from Severus, he turned back to see what he was doing. He had just sat on an armchair and sulked as Minnie ran to welcome them home.

"Master Severus, sir! Young master Harry! Welcome home!" Harry walked closer to the small creature before swooping down and giving her a hug.

"Missed you, Minnie!" The house elf blushed and stepped back when Harry let her go to observe the "young master".

"The young master has grown taller." She said, a proud tone in her voice.

"That's what I just said!" Harry exclaimed chuckling. "But Dad is sulking in his corner and didn't pay attention I fear."

"I'm not sulking!" Severus exclaimed indignantly. "I'm…"

"You're brooding, we know." Harry commented drily, his lips twitching.

"Is something wrong, master Severus?" Minnie asked concerned.

"Nothing too worrisome, Minnie, no need to fret; just an incident in the potions' lab yesterday." Harry assured her.

"But no one was hurt?" The tiny house elf questioned in her high voice, examining her two masters closely for any scraps or bruises.

"No one was hurt, Minnie. Don't worry." Severus assured her in turn. "I had just planned to work over some details on the Wolfsbane so I could sit back and relax for a few days." Minnie shook her head exasperated.

"The master should rest more." She mumbled looking at her feet. Severus laughed.

"Maybe you have a point, Minnie." The house elf smiled tentatively. "Now why don't you go make us some hot chocolate; it would do both of us a world of good to enter the holiday spirit." Minnie nodded happily and left as Harry nodded emphatically. Merlin knew he needed a break from all the craziness that had been thrown their way lately.

"You were still obsessing over that plant, weren't you?" Harry asked, his attention back on the potions master.

"When am I not?" Severus asked, slumping back into an armchair, brows furrowed. "I was looking into a fifth century Norwegian chart and was fully planning to continue doing so after the lesson but no! It took me six hours to scrape that couldron from the floor and then there were papers that needed to be graded this morning!" The potions master ranted as Harry smiled.

"It was a mess wasn't it?"

"I don't even know what caused such a violent reaction!" Severus admitted. "Well, if you except the fact that Miss Brown was more interested into reading her astrological chart than watching what she was doing." And bang went the cauldron, Severus thought, remembering the quite interesting explosion of dark pink fume. And he was feeling very hopeful after finding that chart…

"That was some explosion." Harry stated chuckling. "One that you would expect from Seamus, I suppose, but not from Lavender." Severus swore that his heart skipped a beat. No. After all these years. It couldn't be.

"What did you say?" He asked softly, feeling his head spin.

"That one would expect that explosion from Seamus and not from Lavender." The potions master turned even paler. "Dad?" Harry asked, swiftly approaching Severus. "Are you alright?" But he didn't appear to be listening. Instead, he was mumbling to himself, his eyes wide.

"Of course… It thrives on rocky terrain. And it wouldn't have been imported that far north at that time… So he couldn't have known… just the description… purple stone herb… Even Muggles use it… It's antiseptic, analgesic… After searching for every single rare plant on the face of the earth… Goblins' gold!" Severus exclaimed. Harry looked at the potions master in shock; it seemed he had solved the mysterious plant problem that had plagued him for so long. But how?

"Dad? What happened?" If I had a knut for every time I've asked this question, Harry thought absentmindedly.

"Don't you see, Harry?" He grabbed him by the shoulders and the teenager found himself staring at an overjoyed Severus; his eyes were burning and he started laughing, standing up and tousling his own hair.

"See what?" The teen asked as Severus marched towards his lab.

"Lavender, Harry! It's bloody lavender!" The potions master shouted over his shoulder, his laughter echoing in the halls. Harry stared at his retreating back for a few seconds until his mind caught up.

"Bloody lavender." He muttered, before dissolving into laughter himself.


	42. The Second Time Around

The months passed in relative peace after Christmas holidays. Adrian returned from his training tired and annoyed. From what he had gathered, a great part of the holidays was spent in teaching him more advanced defense spells, a decision Harry inwardly applauded. Harry had spent most of his holidays either helping an overexcited Severus or brushing up with his studies; he was more than surprised to realize he had covered most of the sixth year material and heading steadily towards the seventh year books; he couldn't help but feel some amount of pride for his accomplishment. If everything went according to plan, he would be through with school material by that time next year, maybe sooner.

The greatest surprise he got once he returned to school sprouted mostly from what Sirius let slip during a short visit to his office; apparently, while he was trying to convince Remus not to quit his teaching job until the end of the year -he was feeling immensely guilty he had forgotten to take his Wolfsbane- Professor McGonagall had stunned them all with handing in her resignation. If what Sirius said was true, the Headmaster had to spend a week convincing her otherwise; seeing how she was there when they returned for the first transfiguration class of the spring semester, he must have convinced her. She was however, generally much more easy to aggravate and tended to take points for the slightest mistake.

Then there was Ginny. Harry had been close to stunned when one afternoon, just a week after the holidays, when the younger girl came to talk to him. He had been sitting in his favorite armchair by the fire next to Neville, going through the notes he had kept on a blood magic ritual he had come upon while perusing the thousands of books Nicholas had left him, when he felt a small hand on his shoulder. He closed his notebook and raised his eyes to see Ginny, smiling softly at him. His stomach fluttered a little as her smile widened.

"Hello, Harry." She said. The boy wondered what she wanted to speak to him about.

"Hello, Ginny. How were your holidays?" The girl shrugged.

"Just the same family stuff; Charlie came home from Romania though. He actually got me to volunteer for a summer program in the dragon shelter he's working at. Well, I'm not complaining; free holidays in Romania!" She was talking quite animatedly, making Harry smile. Noticing how she had been carried away, she blushed a little and cleared her throat. "How were your holidays?" She asked.

"Fine. Nothing special." If you except witnessing the creation of the permanent Wolfsbane potion, he added mentally. "I spend Christmas with Se... ehm, with Professor Snape." Whether she had noticed his slip or not, Ginny didn't comment on it.

"You spend a lot of time with Professor Snape." She noted. She was still smiling though and Harry realized startled that she was just stating a fact and not trying to belittle him spending time with Severus in any way or form. "How's he like outside school?" She asked quite suddenly. Harry's eyes widened at the unexpected question. If only he could tell the truth in the open, people wouldn't wonder why he spent so much time with… "You don't have to answer if you don't want to." Ginny assured him chuckling, interrupting his thoughts; she didn't seem intent on pressing him for an answer but Harry gave one anyway.

"He's different." He answered noncommittally. Ginny simply nodded. "So, you wanted to tell me something or…" Harry just trailed off, not knowing what to say. He felt completely unprepared for this type of conversation.

"Oh!" Ginny exclaimed, her eyes widening. "Yes, I did." She toyed with the hem of her shirt a little before she continued. "I know you were the one that told everyone Adrian was missing. Ron might have…" She stopped and raised her eyes to meet Harry's startled ones. "Ron might have died had help arrived any later. He might be a bit thick sometimes, but he's my brother and you probably saved his life." Harry just blinked a couple of times confused; he had always wanted to hear someone thanking him for what he did but, after waiting for so long, he had unconsciously given up on the notion. And now, there he was, with no idea as to what he should say.

"I really didn't…" He began softly.

"Thank you, Harry." Ginny stated seriously before nodding once as if to reassure herself and leaving to join her friends. The green eyed wizard looked at her leave unable to process what he had heard. After a few seconds he just smiled and returned to his book. The warm feeling in his chest, the sheer happiness from someone stopping and saying a simple "thank you", didn't leave him for the whole night.

After that incident, school life proceeded unexpectedly smoothly. Even with Pettigrew on the loose, there had been no more life threatening stunts and, as the days flew by, Harry began to fear this was just the calm before the storm. Still, trying not to heed his inner pessimist, the teen tried to make the most out of these calm days. He was making leaps in his studies, finding it much easier to concentrate when he didn't have to face deadly snakes or crazed dark lords like he did the past two years.

His friendship with Neville was deepening with every passing day and that feeling he had first had when they had sat by the lake, that this was the relationship he should have had with his brother, only strengthened. And suddenly, he found himself understanding why Sirius and Remus were always so close, how they could communicate so well with barely saying a word. They were brothers in all that mattered and that had started to be the case with Neville too. Friends are nothing but the family you choose, Severus had said and Harry, for the first time in a great span of years, felt like he really had a brother.

He spent his weekends -while Adrian was somewhere training- helping Severus perfect the Wolfsbane potion. The potions master was ecstatic with the progress he was making, all the ingredients finally falling into place after years of hard work. Sometimes, Harry just let him keep notes on his progress while he sat in the potions master's office in silence and worked on their joined project; by the time of the next Quidditch match against Ravenclaw, the main outline of the memory spheres -they were still working on the name too- was established.

The game had been quite simple and Harry never did admit he almost missed the Snitch because one Cho Chang smiled sweetly at him. No sir! Severus never gave up on trying having him admit it either. Neither did Neville who, having long ago gotten over his once shy nature around his friend, didn't fail to remind him every time Cho was around. A little after the second match of the season another event caught him by surprise; Hermione, tired of always hearing how the Grim was after Adrian, just quit Divination, right in the middle of a lesson. Adrian was still laughing about that; apparently, Professor Trelawney's expression had been a sight. Harry just nodded absently; using a timeturner that often did take its toll on you.

A little before Easter holidays, Harry was approached by his Aritmancy professor; Septima Vector, a witch around forty years old after the class was over. They had just taken a test a few days ago and she seemed eager to discuss his results. Harry approached the professor tentatively; he was certain he had done well in that test…

"Tell me, Mr. Potter, how do you think you did in your last test?" She asked out of the blue; she was always straightforward but Harry didn't expect the question.

"I… um… I think I did well." He stammered. "Why? Was there a problem, professor?" The witch shook her head, smiling slightly; Harry chose to take that as a good sign.

"Problem?" She asked, looking at the teen in front of her carefully. "Yes, there was." Harry froze.

"There was?" He mentally redid all the calculations he could remember from the test; it was elementary stuff which he had covered back when he had first started studying alchemy. Some even before that.

"Yes, there was; I fear you're getting bored in this class, Mr. Potter." Professor Vector stated. Harry's eyes widened a little; that was unexpected.

" _Bored_?"

"Yes. Your answers were absolutely correct. But you used advanced theory which has definitely not been taught in this class." Harry paled as he realized she was telling the truth; with all the calculations he'd been doing for his studies, the more complicated and much more complete advanced theories of Arithmancy were like second nature to him. "Tell me, Mr. Potter, have you been studying Arithmancy on your own?"

"I have." Harry admitted, his brain working on coming up with a feasible answer as to why he would be studying more. "I just find the subject interesting, Professor; I've been reading on my spare time, studying in the library when I can…" The explanation sounded weak in his ears but seemed to be just what his teacher had been expecting.

"I thought as much, Mr. Potter." She said, smiling wide. "I took the initiative and checked your grades on the other subjects taught in your year and you seem to be doing excellently. You take your studies seriously, I presume." Harry nodded, faintly recalling his mother saying that Professor Vector was a Ravenclaw.

"I do." He confirmed. The Professor smiled brighter.

"Excellent!" She exclaimed, pulling out a parchment from a drawer in her desk. "This," she said, giving the parchment to the startled teenager, "is the program of a class I teach; it's Advanced Atithmancy Studies and it was created some years ago to substitute the normal Aritmancy curriculum for fifth to seventh year students who were far ahead of their classes. Next year the first level will consist of two fifth year students and you, should you chose to join." Harry just stared at her in shock.

"But… I'll be in my fourth year and…"  
"And you'll be wasting your time in the regular course." She said. "I'm not forcing you into it, Mr. Potter; I'm just suggesting you think about it. Not even over your Easter holidays." She continued when seeing his thoughtful expression. "You have your whole summer to consider it; if you agree, write me a letter at least a week before school year starts and you'll sit for the test needed on your first week back. Think about it Mr. Potter; this might lead into an early OWL and NEWT exam. One course less to worry about on your fifth and seventh years." That was quite tempting as even one exam less would feel like heaven in the hectic program of the OWL and NEWT years.

"I'll think about it." He promised, his hand tightening around the parchment.

"I hope you will, Mr. Potter." She said and bid him good day. Harry decided to skip lunch break to share the news with Severus. The potions master was ecstatic.

" _Of course_  you'll say yes!" He announced scandalized after Harry expressed the reasons why he thought he shouldn't.

"It won't be that inconspicuous." Harry reminded him.

"But you want to do it." Severus insisted. "And what have we said about your schoolwork?"

"That I should do the best I can regardless of anything else." Harry stated, smiling.

"That's right!" Severus stated with a satisfied smirk. "Tell Septima you'll take the test next year." He stated and hugged Harry tightly, considering the conversation over. Harry just shook his head and laughed at Severus's antics as the potions master shooed him from his office, berating him for not having lunch. Neville, who was ready to berate him for skipping lunch too, grinned widely and congratulated him upon hearing the news.

"My best friend's a genius!" He said, wiping a pretence tear off his face.

"You're so full of it, Longbottom." Harry stated and rolled his eyes, unable to help a smile from appearing on his face. After that of course, Neville _did_  berate him for skipping lunch.

Easter holidays were spent pretty much the same as Christmas, with Harry and Severus at Silbreith while the rest of the Potters were… Harry didn't even bother to consider where they were any more. He just hoped his brother was improving and being kept safe. He was in Severus's lab one day, showing him the body of a memory sphere. The sphere itself was a little larger than a Snitch; it was mostly made of glass, and had silver wire trailing spiral like patterns all over its surface.

"There's a switch here," Harry stated, pointing at a delicately designed rosette and pushing down with his thumb "that will activate the sequence of spells you'll cast on it; it's a rather nicely hidden runic charm. Nothing really fancy. Just a trigger of sorts." Severus chuckled.

" _Just_  a runic charm; of course. Nothing fancy there at all." Harry rolled his eyes, half debating to explain how runic charms were basically an assortment of runes that were used as a basis for alchemic charms when he realised that Severus already knew. So he just handed him the design and changed the topic.

"So, how's the Wolfsbane going? Any progress since yesterday?" Severus's answer was a manic grin and a swift nod.

"I think I've reached the point when I can start working on the testing process; granted, it will take some time to find test subjects and retain my anonymity but…"

"Severus, I…"

"Say you're sorry Harry and I'm grounding you." The potions master stated, preventing any guilt ridden speech Harry might have been preparing to give. "I wouldn't have made it to this point if it wasn't for you, so save it." Harry wanted to disagree but Severus seemed adamant. So he just settled for a;

"Whatever you say, Dad," and dropped the subject. Returning to school had been nothing sort of uneventful. Whatever had happened over Adrian's holidays wasn't discussed, but the elder Potter twin seemed irritated for yet another holiday spent studying. Harry once again refrained from commenting, sensing a pattern beginning to form. He dearly hoped his brother would do nothing to provoke his luck in his irritation and tried to keep an eye on his while swallowing his own repressed ire; Adrian should be glad he got the opportunity to train. It was war they would be facing soon and he still doubted if his brother understood that.

April brought the last game of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin for the Cup and Oliver's last game in Hogwarts. Faithful to their promise, the Gryffindor team did their best to say goodbye to their Captain with a bang; the final score was a whooping three hundred and fifty points to twenty for the lions, turning Oliver into a weeping mess on the floor. The party continued well into the early hours of the morning and left a wide smile on Harry's face.

Before he knew it, April was over and so was the better part of May, signalling the beginning of the examinations period. He and Neville had spent most of it trying to stir away from Hermione who had taken to talking to herself in between tests and managed to make it in one piece to the last day of the exams. Finally, after a rather hectic morning, Harry was seated across Severus after the last exam of the year, Ancient Runes, chatting happily about his plans for the next year.

"You know, most extra-curricular studies begin in the sixth year but fourth year students can take Ancient Studies. It's only one hour every week during the fourth year and two hours during the fifth and an OWL on the subject would be ridiculously easy if you think the class considers most of blood magic ancient." Harry commented. "And it's all theory too."

"So you're thinking on taking it?" Severus asked, smiling slightly as he poured them some iced tea; the weather had finally caught up with the season and the temperature had climbed noticeably, even when you were in the much cooler dungeons.

"Yes. It's mostly theoretical, as I said, since blood magic is rarely practiced and the rest of the subjects taught aren't approached through spells. But the theory itself should be very interesting, let alone helpful." Harry spoke animatedly.

"Then you should take it." Both Harry and Severus froze; in every truth, that was the answer Severus had meant to give. It just wasn't him who had worded it. Harry turned around slowly, looking at the direction Severus had been staring at. He had heard that voice before; given it was just that once, but how could one forget Merlin?

"Hello, gentlemen. It's been some time." The old wizard said, his dark blue eyes regarding them carefully. "You're awfully scrawny." He stated, looking at Harry. It took a few seconds to get over the shock, but Harry's brain started functioning once more.

"Oh no, it's…" Instead of finishing his sentence, the teen pointed his wand to himself and lifted the concealment charms, Severus following his lead. Merlin's eyebrows rose slightly.

"Much better." He stated. "But why were you using concealing charms to begin with?" The old wizard asked perplexed.

"It's all part of the façade." Severus answered simply. The old wizard looked even more taken aback.

"What façade?" Harry and Severus shared a confused look. Neither of them had expected a second conversation with Merlin but even in the few times they had entertained such a thought, that wasn't the way they thought the conversation would flow. Severus decided to take charge.

"We're trying to make certain that nobody finds out Harry's the Boy Who Lived." Merlin looked at them and nodded confused before he made the connection in his mind.

"So you've been hiding? All this time?" He looked something between shocked and guilty. He took a few long breaths before looking at them. "Tell me everything." He instructed and Harry began his tale. He told him of his wand and how he had met Nicholas, his mastery in alchemy, his first, second and third years, Neville, the Firebolt and the Wolfsbane. How he found out he was a Parcelmouth, saving his brother, Pettigrew's escape and studying. He spoke of Silbreith and how he had travelled the world with Severus. Merlin just took everything in and sighed.

"All that and nobody knows!" He exclaimed in shock, hiding his face in his hands. Severus was just as shocked and a little bit annoyed.

"Wasn't that the point?" He asked, his words colder than intended.

"Not letting the world know Harry was the one that stopped Voldemort in the first place was indeed the point, for the world would interfere. Not letting anyone know how he saved his brother was yet another needed sacrifice. But hiding your accomplishments from the world completely? _Why_?" The two younger wizards shared a lost look.

"It was the best way to keep them from guessing what had happened." Harry explained. "If they saw nothing else but Adrian's younger brother and his reluctant guardian, they would never suspect there being something more." Merlin sighed and looked at the two wizards in front of him.

"This is mostly my fault." The old wizard stated. "I should have explained everything years ago; hiding yourself from the world was never what I intended."

"Please explain." Harry asked, his head spinning.

"I came here today because it's time to hear the prophecy I told you about all these years ago. The pieces have fallen into place and its now time; maybe it will help you understand." Merlin stated and drew his wand; with a wide sweep, a female voice sounded in the silent room, deep and steady, a lot like Professor Trelawney's when she made her prophecy five months ago.

_The son of the father who is not the father_

_Born under the moon of Claiming and of Thunder and of Hay_

_Born as the seventh month dies_

_Will bring the end to an era of darkness_

_And the beginning of the years of prosperity_

_For all that is magic_

_And the father of the son who is not the son_

_Father in heart and soul and everything but blood_

_Will protect and guide him_

_Shelter him and lead him_

_He will teach his son, the most worthy of a pair_

_The sworn protector of his brother_

_The neglected child_

_To overpower the darkness of his time_

_And united with the one who Sees and her sister who is not her sister_

_The keeper of magic that is old_

_The father and the son will find_

_Their path in life_

"What?" Severus asked softly, gripping the armrests of his chair tightly. Harry appeared equally lost, his eyes focused on the old wizard unseeing. This prophecy painted him as the one who would no only bring down the Dark Lord but act as a harbinger of a new era, whatever that meant.

"I see you're a bit lost." Merlin stated. "That prophecy -as prophecies regularly are- is a rather pompous way of saying Harry is meant to defeat the Dark Lord and bring around the beginning of a golden age for magic. I had a prophecy like that made for me a few millennia ago. I know it can be overbearing but essentially, it's a more detailed version of the prophecy you already know." Harry looked at Merlin confused.

"But why didn't hiding make sense?  _The sworn protector of his brother_  and  _the neglected child_  describe my life perfectly." The boy said, making Merlin sigh again.

"Maybe you're right." The old wizard stated. "After all, prophecies have a way of coming true no matter what you do once set in motion. And if Fate wanted you the neglected child, it just moulded you into it. Maybe that was what was necessary to put all the events in motion, to make sure all the pieces to the puzzle fell into place uninterrupted, I don't know…"

"What pieces of the puzzle?" Severus asked, getting more and more angry.

"As you heard, you two are not the only ones mentioned in the original prophecy." Merlin explained. " _The one who Sees and her sister who is not her sister, the keeper of magic that is old_. There are two more people in there and maybe all this was to lead them into the right path too."

"So we already know these two women?" Severus asked. "And we have influenced them somehow?"

"I wouldn't know." Merlin stated. Severus and Harry looked at him in disbelief. "No, I really wouldn't know. It was Morgana who made the prophecy and she bestowed me with the knowledge of what I have told you because I had experienced similar events in my life. Those two women, she said, were her responsibility. And if someone knows how a prophecy should be handled, that would be Morgana. All I can tell you is what she told me; that their paths are now clear and telling you of the prophecy would do nothing to divert them from their way. So maybe the road that led you here was the right one after all." While Harry had no idea what to answer to that, Severus broke out laughing, what started as chuckles ending at a hysterical note. Both Harry and Merlin stared at him from their spots as he laughed and laughed, so hard that tears started forming in his eyes.

"I fail to see how anything I've said was that funny, Severus." Merlin stated, sharing a concerned look with Harry.

"No, it wasn't." Severus agreed, breathing in and trying to control his laughter. "But you said that the paths of everyone mentioned in the prophecy are now set."

"Yes."

"So, no matter what we do they can't be, let's say, derailed?" The potions master asked.

"No, they can not. The prophecy has now been set to motion and, even though the ending is still debatable, the facts that will lead there themselves…" But Severus interrupted him with another bout of carefree laughter.

"Dad?" Harry asked fearing for the worse.

"Don't you see, Harry?" Severus asked, wiping a few errant tears. "You might still hide the fact that you're the Boy Who Lived from the world so that your brother may be trained and so that you keep making your own choices but we don't have to be so secretive any more." Harry just looked him stunned.

"Ah." Merlin exclaimed, chuckling softly. "I'm guessing that what Severus meant to say is you don't have to be that careful anymore; the appearances have been kept for so long, you're not in direct danger to be uncovered as the Boy Who Lived unless you go right out and say so yourself. You can be a little more… lax? Yes, lax with the measures you've taken up to now."

"And with Voldemort coming back and all," Severus began, standing up from his chair and pacing the room "it will be like easing them into the truth. Because Voldemort will find out he made a mistake sooner or later and he  _will_  tell the world."

"But that may not happen for years…"

"Or it might happen tomorrow." Severus pressed on, cutting Harry's protest short. "Pettigrew's gone, and you" he added turning to Merlin "said that all the pieces of the original prophecy are falling into place. It can't be that long now." Harry nodded morosely. There was some logic into that statement, that was certain.

"So what are you suggesting?" Harry asked.

"Keep the fact that you're the one who defeated the Dark Lord a secret. Tell the world everything else; you've been hidden away for too long." Severus offered, his eyes burning bright. "If the Dark Lord rises tomorrow, I want you to have lived your life to the fullest before entering the war so, when it's over, you can look back and have no regrets." Harry smiled, feeling his eyes watering.

"You're assuming we'll win." The teenager stated.

"I know we will."

"You know, Arthur once gave me a speech like that." Merlin stated out of the blue. The two younger wizards looked at him wide eyed.

"He did?" Harry asked tentatively.

"Yes." Merlin stated laughing. "I was having a panic attack before facing Maev and he told me he was certain we'd make it through. He was right too and has never let me live it down since we won; the prat brings it up every chance he gets!" Harry wasn't sure what sounded weirder in that statement; Merlin having a panic attack, King Arthur still being alive and apparently a prat, or the great Merlin using the word "prat".

"Well, it will definitely solve your troubles with finding test subjects for the Wolfsbane anonymously." Harry stated giving in. Severus looked at him confused.

"You have me there." Then he smirked wider. "And we'll get to see James and Sirius's faces once they realize you're the creator of the Firebolt." They both started laughing at the mere thought until Merlin interrupted them.

"I fear it's time for me to go." The old wizard stated, looking at the two men in front of him fondly.

"So, should we expect you to pop up in that portrait again?" Severus asked, a smile permanently etched on his face.

"I fear not." Merlin stated. "My work here is done." Harry nodded somewhat sad.

"We  _did_  see you twice." He stated. "That's, well, twice the times any witch or wizard alive can claim they have seen you."

"Who said you won't see me again?" Merlin asked, receiving two confused stares as an answer. "It will just take you a long, long time, I hope." He added. "Gentlemen, it has been an honour." And like that, he disappeared from the portrait for good. The two wizards turned to look at each other.

"Now what in the world did he mean with that?" Harry asked.

"You know what, Harry?" Severus asked. "I don't even care right now. We have some planning to do."

"Planning?" The smirk on the potions master face was nothing sort of mischievous.

"We're stepping out of the shadows with a bang kid." Harry figured he liked the sound of that and just smirked back as Severus plotted away.

 


	43. The Sisterhood

Ginny Weasley found herself on her way to Romania on the very first week of her summer vacations. She was more than happy that her mother had deemed her marks in the exams completely satisfactory and gave her the green light to go with Charlie to the dragon shelter were he worked; she was going to do all the work her brother didn't want to do, she knew that, but she didn't really care. She would have some time for herself, some time to think.

The past year had been interesting to say the least. Not in a way that endangered her life interesting -thank Merlin for that- but interesting nonetheless. She had finally managed to break a little out of her shell and connect with girls her age, something she had found difficult even before the diary ordeal; growing up with six brothers and being homeschooled had never prepared her for that. But, once stepping out of the shadow cast by a teenage Dark Lord, she found out that yes, she could make friends and yes, she had things in common with girls her age.

Her schoolwork progressed marvellously, Gryffindor had won the House Cup and the Quidditch Cup and she hadn't been given any detentions whatsoever, even if she was considered the next most devious after the twins in her family. Ron had had yet another life threatening experience but he had pulled through and he and the twins had been grounded for it too. Fred and George because they gave Adrian some sort of magical map and Ron because he had given Mrs. Weasley such a scare. So, technically, with her vacation abroad, everything should feel great in her world.

But it didn't; not that she hadn't enjoyed herself. She had and she still did. Still there was that little, tiny, insignificant really, issue with a certain raven haired boy she knew. He had saved her life a year ago -and don't go to that dark place Ginny; Tom is gone, he is gone and he can't use you to hurt anyone anymore- had a hand in saving her brother's life this year and wasn't the Potter twin the world would have expected. Because despite her best efforts, Harry Potter had remained an enigma.

True, she hadn't reached that low to stalk him, but she had been quite close before persuading herself she was above that and that Harry, after saving her life, deserved her respect. And he definitely deserved his privacy, even if her curiosity was eating her from the inside out.

She had tried to form a list in her head of the things she new about him and the things that she wanted to know but couldn't dare to ask. The second list had been so impossibly longer than the first that she wanted to bang her head against the wall.

Things she knew; he was first in his year, despite Hermione's best efforts. He was great in Quidditch. He had saved her life, slaying a basilisk and vanquishing a Dark Lord and then had let his brother take the credit. He could cast a patronus that had a wolf form. He spent most of his time with Professor Snape and Neville. And that was really it. Oh, and he had ridiculously green eyes; but that was irrelevant, she scolded herself.

Things she didn't know; how come he was so good in everything magical if he didn't get the special training his brother received? How in the world did he manage to kill the basilisk when his brother, the Boy Who Lived, lay on the ground unconscious? Why wouldn't he tell he was the one who did it? If he was the one who defeated the basilisk, what else had he done that nobody knew about? Adrian had been given credit for stopping Voldemort during his first year in Hogwarts too; was Harry the one who really did that? And if he was, could it have been him who vanquished the Dark Lord in the first place? Could Harry Potter be the real Boy Who Lived?

The questions were endless and they were making her dizzy. She dearly hoped her time in Romania would help her clear her head a bit. That was her first thought as she woke up on a hot June morning and climbed down the stairs from her bedroom to the kitchen almost slipping a couple of times in her haste. Charlie would come to pick her up in a few hours and she just had the time to eat breakfast, get dressed and search around the house for forgotten objects. In that order exactly as she wanted to have some time to digest before she used the portkey to Romania.

"Morning, Mom!" She called to her mother as she plopped on a chair and started filling her plate with breakfast; now this was something she would miss. Molly Weasley was a mean cook. The only one awake besides her mother was Percy who was getting ready for an interview at the Ministry of Magic. He was nervous to the extreme and his hands were shaking as he poured himself -and the table- some tea. "Morning, Percy!" Her brother just nodded while her mother let down her wand and hugged her.

"Oh Ginny! I'll miss you so much!" The girl rolled her eyes at her mother's reaction. She might have agreed, but it was hard to see her only daughter leave the house during the summer for the first time. When Ginny had tentatively reminded her that she wasn't in the house most of the year anyway, her mother had insisted this was just different and that she couldn't believe how much her baby girl had grown up. Ginny believed she was overreacting but couldn't deny she would miss her mother just as much. Somehow this vacation felt different than going to school, but she wasn't going to admit that openly. Merlin knew her mother didn't need any other reasons to try and make her change her mind.

"I'll miss you too, Mum, but it's only going to be a month; I'll be back for the Quidditch Cup and most of August." The Weasley matriarch nodded and added a few more scrambled eggs on her daughter's plate. Ginny didn't think she could manage to eat all that, but opted to say nothing.

"I know I'm being unreasonable but…"

"She's afraid of how she'll cope with five male Weasleys in the house and no female company to keep her sane." Arthur Weasley stated, entering the kitchen and kissing his wife.

"Just don't drive her crazy while I'm gone." Ginny warned her father in a mock stern voice. He looked properly chastised as he sat down to eat his own hasty breakfast; he would be accompanying Percy to the Ministry and his nervous son had convinced him to leave an hour early. By the time the remaining three Weasley males still staying in the house walked down the stairs, Percy and Arthur had to leave.

"Now be careful and listen to your brother." Arthur told his only daughter. "Write often and try to stay out of trouble." Ginny was dying to respond "don't I always?" but opted on sparing her father the panic attack. After her brother and father flooed away, she ran back to her bedroom, looking around for the things she might have forgotten as she got dressed. Her suitcase was rather small, but she was convinced she had everything she needed with her. Sudden voices from the living room caught her attention; Charlie had arrived. She flew down the stairs and into her second oldest brother's arms.

"Hey, Gin!" Charlie seemed even burlier since the time she had seen him last and had even managed to acquire a new burn on his right hand; it didn't seem very severe though, so she figured the story behind would be brought up for her amusement sooner or later. "Ready to go?"

"I was ready ages ago!" She stated, not managing to control her enthusiasm. She pointed at her suitcase -which Charlie picked up as if it was lighter than a feather- and started hugging her family goodbye. After a few more advices from her mother and a couple of wishes to have fun from her brothers, she once again promised to be safe and write. Charlie pulled a pen out of his pocket and held it out to his sister.

"On three." He stated and Ginny rushed to grab a hold of it; it was a Muggle pen, she noticed, and by the looks of it, out of ink. "One, two…" She smiled once more at her family. "…three!" And they were off; she felt the expected tag behind her navel and the world started spinning. Her house disappeared from view and, as hard as it was to believe, when she landed –on top of her brother but still- she was in Romania. The area they had landed on was a clearing in a think forest. She looked around bewitched and took a deep breath; she could see why her brother would want to live in such a place.

"Is that scent, pines?" She asked, holding a hand for her brother. Charlie pulled himself off the ground smiling.

"Black pines and cedars actually." He informed her. "You like it, sis?"

"I love it!" She exclaimed. "Is the whole area like this?"

"The shelter is situated in a clearing away from the forest about twenty minutes from here; we'll have to walk a little. The dragons don't react well to portals and we try to avoid apparating and disapparating very close to them." Ginny nodded, not minding walking in the least; before attending Hogwarts, she used to walk the two miles to a stream she had discovered when she was eight. And while in Hogwarts she regularly walked to Hagrid's hut for tea. Just tea though; she drew the line at cakes.

"Lead the way then!" She said and the two siblings walked, Charlie telling her a bit of the other trainers working at the shelter.

"There's Paul, he's from Edinburgh. He's a year older than me and his own sister volunteered to help this year; she's called Mary and she's your age. Nice kid, came over a few days ago. She's in Hufflepuff, I think." Ginny nodded. "Then there's Anna from Germany who's a couple of years younger than me…" He kept going as Ginny tried to memorize the names. There were two more volunteers in the shelter; another girl, Leonie from France and a boy, Edward from Denmark. He had talked about six more trainers before he mumbled "…and then there's Vesper."

"Vesper?" Ginny asked trying not to smirk. Her brother blushed and then she knew she had struck gold.

"Vesper Gilligan." He mumbled. "She's Irish and she's three years younger than me. She was in Ravenclaw."

"Okay." Ginny said smiling at her brother. "I look forward to meeting everybody then." She commented, her smirk finally showing.

"Are you, by any chance, related to Fred and George?" Charlie inquired drily.

"Only a little." She answered as the scenery around them changed; the trees slowly gave way to a valley, shadowed by a line of tall mountains. In the distance she could see the buildings that composed the shelter; something that looked like an oversized barn and the type of buildings one saw in horse training centers. And then there were the dragons.

"Dragons!" She simply exclaimed looking at her laughing brother.

"What did you expect? Owls?" Charlie asked amused. "It is a dragon shelter after all."

"I know but…  _Dragons_!" She repeated, pointing at a great Hungarian Horntail that was stretching in the distance. Charlie started laughing again and pushed his sister forward.

"They are a little intimidating once you first see them." He admitted.

"Do they ever stop?" Ginny asked, looking at him confused.

"Nope. I just didn't want to scare you away."

"You'd have to drag me away, kicking and screaming. And I don't know if you'd succeed. I love this place!" She proclaimed as she noticed a woman coming to meet them; she had long black hair and seemed to be of average height. She was very pretty, Ginny noticed as they approached her; her blushing brother seemed to be of the same opinion. So this was Vesper then.

"Charlie!" The woman in question greeted them. She had sparkling blue eyes and a large smile. Ginny figured she would like her. "And you must be Ginny." She shook her hand and smiled at Charlie. "Your brother's been talking about you a lot."

"Good things, I hope?" Ginny asked smiling.

"He's been acting like a five year old waiting for you to come here." Vesper admitted, making Charlie protest.

"Hey! I resent that!"

"I meant a charming five year old, Weasley." The Weasley in question nodded and moved forward with his sister's suitcase while the two girls followed him laughing.

"I think I'm going to like it here." Ginny stated making Vesper giggle. The first day of her stay progressed in a very simple manner; it was meet and greet for the longest part but that included the dragons too, even if that was from a distance. She even saw Norberta -and  _not_  Norbert- the Norwegian Ridgeback her brother had sent over almost three years back. The volunteers all slept in the same house and she shared a room with Mary Campbell, a girl she had met in Hogwarts but had never talked to. She was blonde and quite shy but nice once she started to get out of her shell.

The first week passed mostly uneventfully; working was hard as the volunteers were mostly there for cleaning but it was more than fun. On her third day in the sanctuary, Ginny had even visited the nursery where three hatchlings were being held. She didn't want to give it to Hagrid but they were actually kind of cute… And she seemed to have a special talent with them. She had never approached older dragons, but the young ones reacted in a very peculiar way when she was around, one that she hadn't shared even with her brother.

Her everyday schedule was quite simple; wake up at eight, have breakfast, help wherever you're needed, lunch break, work, dinner, sleep and repeat. That's why it took Ginny sometime to realize what Mary was telling her when she woke her up at the crack of dawn.

"What?" She looked at her bedside table. "Mary, it's six thirty! After all that cleaning we did yesterday, I need my sleep!" But her roommate was far too excited to listen to her complaints.

"Come with me! You won't believe what's happening!" Instantly intrigued, Ginny rose from her bed and grabbed her wand -never hurt to be prepared- and followed her new friend out of the room. They walked down to the small living room of the house were Leonie and Edward were waiting, standing by the window and looking outside. Leonie was a sixteen year old brunette from Lyon. She studied at Beauxbatons and was quite friendly even if she was a bit quirky. She reminded Ginny a little bit of Luna Lovegood and that was enough to like her almost immediately. Edward was fifteen and blond, also a student in Beauxbatons; he was quite handsome, in a carefree way and had taken a liking to the two years younger redhead. Well, according to Mary at least.

"You won't believe what's happening! I woke up to get some water and look!" Leonie stated, pointing out from the window. "They're here!" Ginny turned to look at Mary who simply pushed her towards the window. Ginny walked closer and took a look outside; her brother and Paul, Mary's brother, were talking with two figures dressed in deep green cloaks.

"Who are they?" The redhead asked.

"They were here last year too." Edward answered. It was his second time in the sanctuary as he wanted to work as a trainer one day. "Well, not these two necessarily." He amended as Ginny sent him a look that clearly stated she wanted a complete answer. "They're from the Sisterhood." He explained; Ginny gasped.

"As in  _the_  Sisterhood?" Edward nodded and Ginny moved closer to the window. She couldn't see the faces of the strangers but she was certain now they were women. The Sisterhood was called like that for a reason after all. But could it be true? She had heard the stories of course but it seemed a little hard to believe these were actual members of the mysterious order of witches.

"What are they doing here?" Mary asked from Ginny's left.

"They're here for the dragons of course." Leonie offered. "They're supposed to be interested in magical creatures, no?" Ginny nodded in agreement as she studied the two women. She had never thought she would see a witch that belonged to the Sisterhood up close. They were a very secretive order of magic; many said they were once led by Morgana Le Fay herself but existed long before her. The Sisterhood was supposed to be consisted of witches that had special talents in rare fields of magic. Nobody knew how one became a member; all that was known was that it included a ritual and was one of the greatest honors a witch could be bestowed with.

Even if it was a small order in numbers, it was easily one of the most -if not  _the_  most- influential in the world. Just being a member caused you to be treated like royalty among wizards; and there even was royalty in their ranks. A real living princess, Evelyn of Norway. The royal families of the magical world didn't rule any more, and had not for centuries; it had been a long time since it was decided that wizards and witches would step down from ruling nations in the name of secrecy, but the offspring of these houses still retained their titles.

"Did they stay for long, last time?" Ginny asked, trying to focus on the conversation around her.

"Just a day." Edward said. "They come every year. They did arrive a bit early in the morning though." The two newcomers were led inside the main building of the sanctuary and Ginny stepped back from the window.

"Do you think we're going to meet them?" She asked the other teenagers.

"Well, we saw them last year; they ate with us and everything." Edward explained. "But they didn't speak much; mostly kept to themselves. Not that I would know what to say if they spoke to me!"

"Why not?" Asked Mary confused. "Are they frightening?"

"Not frightening exactly…" The boy said, enjoying the fact that all three girls were hanging from his lips. "It's their eyes. I asked Anne and she told me that every member of the Sisterhood she had ever seen has eyes like that."

"Like what?" Asked Leonie.

"It's the colour. Very intense, almost magical. Some say it is. Magical, I mean. That you can see their magic through their eyes." Ginny nodded and looked at the building were the two figures had disappeared to.

"We'll find out soon enough. Well, I'm getting dressed; no point in sleeping now." She walked back to her room with Mary, talking about what had happened.

"You know, I dreamt of being part of the Sisterhood when I was younger." The blonde confessed. "It's silly but…"

"It's not silly." Ginny assured her, combing her hair. "With all the stories one hears about them, it's only normal." Mary smiled in gratitude. Half an hour later they were dressed and heading for breakfast. A startled Charlie approached her, looking over his shoulder every ten seconds. He seemed to be expecting the witches from the Sisterhood to enter the dining area any given second.

"You guys are up early." He commented.

"Mysterious witches arriving in the early morning can do that to you." Ginny stated.

"You know about that?" Charlie asked confused.

"Leonie saw them when she went for some water this morning." Ginny explained. "So, should we expect them to make an appearance soon?"

"Not really; they arrived early because they had some sort of errand to run on their way here and hadn't slept last night." Ginny sighed; she had rather hoped to meet with them. "Oh, don't worry!" Charlie stated with a smile. "They'll be staying the whole day. Just don't expect them before early afternoon." Ginny brightened up visibly after that. She hastily ate her breakfast and run to the nursery; she wasn't supposed to work there that day, but she always tried to stop by and watch the little dragons.

From what Charlie had said, it was mating season and they should expect males flying in sometime next week. But for the moment, the three dragons in the nursery were the pride and joy of the sanctuary. There was an Antipodean Opaleye they called Bertha, a Hebridian Black called Nox and a Romanian Longhorn called Lance. And yes, Charlie had warned her that even when young, dragons were extremely dangerous. And yes, again, she knew it was probably like playing with fire, trying to approach them. But, after the first time she had walked close by, Ginny had realized she rather had a gift with dragons.

And as always, once she moved closer, so did the dragons, Lance, who was the youngest of the three, jumping out of the round pen he was held in and straight into her arms. She giggled softly, scratching the little dragon under his jaw affectionately as she stood up carrying him back to the other two.

"You're getting heavier, honey." She stated as she placed him on the ground to greet the two expectant dragons. "I won't be able to carry you in a few weeks." She petted the dragons and played with them for a few minutes, knowing she didn't have much time before the morning sift arrived. "The strangest thing happened today…" And she proceeded to tell the dragons about the arrival of the two witches. The dragons listened to her voice carefully. She heard Brigitte, one of the trainers, and Paul outside the nursery talking to each other not a minute after she had finished her narration. She bid the dragons goodbye and playfully shushed them as she exited through the back door. Ginny headed to her appointed chores for the day with a smile and completely unaware she was being watched.

It was four hours and a thorough sweeping of the barns later that she got the chance to escape a second round of sweeping the floors when Anne, who was also the sanctuary's physician, asked for a volunteer to bring some mugwort from the forest. Apparently they were running low -meaning they had run out- on the herb and she had to make some potions for the dragons immediately. Ginny, having gathered the same plant for years for her mother's stomach ache remedies, jumped at the chance and was soon headed for the forest with a sickle and leather bag. She had been given clear instructions as to where she could find the herb and was asked to bring back as much as she could carry.

She headed deeper into the forest, looking for the clearing Anne had described. She was supposed to head east until she heard running water from the nearby stream and then follow the sound to the clearing. A few moments after debating if she had gotten lost, she finally heard the sound she was looking for. Relieved, she turned right and followed her ears until she reached the clearing; it was filled with mugwort and Ginny hastened to gather as much as she could.

The sound of the stream was relaxing and the green grass under her feet quite inviting. She toyed for the idea to stay a little longer; she could always say she got lost after all. Then she remembered that the dragons needed their potions and immediately dismissed any notion of slacking. Before she had time to berate herself further, a loud roar filled her ears, reverberating in the forest; her head snapped upwards involuntarily. It wasn't hard to locate the source of the sound; a large dragon was flying overhead heading for the sanctuary. Or so she hoped. Because it seemed to circle straight above her, its form getting larger and larger with every circle completed. Was it descending?

The rational part of her brain screamed for her to run, enter the woods were she would be safe. But as the dragon grew even closer and finally landed heavily, making the ground shake, she found her legs unresponsive. A Norwegian Ridgeback, her panic fueled brain informed her, still refusing to make her feet move. Not that it would do her any good at this point; the dragon had seen her and appeared to be measuring her. It cocked its head to the side, his huge, yellow eyes observing her carefully. Ginny held in a gasp; what could she do? She was alone, in a forest with only her wand and a sickle to defend herself. And even if she could reach for her wand -she'd rather not make any hasty moves- what could she do to stop a dragon? Even if this one didn't seem in a hurry to eat her, she knew that could change any given minute. She had to do something. Anything!

A soft whispering started in the back of her head as the dragon edged a little closer. She had heard it before, when she was much younger, she could remember as much. She had been walking down the street in Diagon Alley and had gotten lost. Unwittingly, she had ended up in Knockturn Alley where a group of seedy looking wizards had spotted her; they had approached her, smirking and laughing at each other and she just wanted to make them stop.

The whispering had started then and had gotten louder and louder, until her father found her and cast a few selected hexes to the group of wizards. And she had heard it again, a few moments before she fainted in the Chamber of Secrets, when she met Tom Riddle face to face for the first time. She had dismissed the memory both times, either as childhood fancy or fear induced illusion but now… It was getting stronger and was more than a mumbling; it was words. And it wasn't a language that she knew. The dragon moved closer and the words grew louder; there was a rhythm to them and something that pushed her to speak them. The dragon moved again and she gave into the pulling;

_Codail suan, mo chadra bhán_

_Codail sámh, a mhuirnín mhilis_

_Luigh go ciúin sa chliabhán_

_Dún do shúil, a leabh dhílis_

She almost stopped at the sound of her own voice; clear as crystal and too mature for her years, the words rose from her throat and flowed in the air, high notes soothing and charming the dragon slowly. And she would have stopped if the dragon hadn't blinked as if it was struggling to keep its eyes open.

_Réalta geala anocht ag luascadh ins an spéir_

_Fuaim na coille agus ceol na hoíche_

_Fág uait an olagán_

_Níl gá ar bith leis choíche_

Ginny had no idea what she was singing -because the rhythm, even if slow, wasn't speaking- but the dragon seemed affected by it; the creature had lowered its head to the ground, its tail moving along with the notes. Its legs trembled as it started falling asleep.

_Codail suan, mo chadra bhán_

_Codail sámh, a mhuirnín mhilis_

_Luigh go ciúin sa chliabhán_

_Dún do shúil, a leabh dhílis_

_Réalta geala anocht ag luascadh ins an spéir_

_Fuaim na coille agus ceol na hoíche_

And falling on the ground with a loud thud, the dragon fell asleep. Ginny looked at its slumbering form in shock. What had just happened? Had she just done that? She shook her head in an effort to clear her thoughts. Why was she still standing there? She turned around to leave and walked straight into a woman that was standing right behind her. A woman dressed in a pale blue dress and a dark green cloak, who had dark brown hair and the most vivid grey eyes she had ever seen. This was one of the two witches from the Sisterhood. She let go of what seemed to be a pendant around her neck as she looked at Ginny.

"Hello." She greeted the girl as if a large dragon wasn't asleep a few feet behind them.

"Hello." Ginny croaked back, trying to comprehend what was happening. The only coherent thought that flared inside her mind was "I have no idea what I'm doing".

"I'm Astrid." The woman said. "What would be your name, young siren?"  _Siren_? Ginny thought startled. An image of mermaids crossed her mind as she regarded the woman, Astrid, confused.

"I'm Ginny." She said. "And what do you mean by siren?" Astrid's eyes widened at the question.

"And completely unaware of her talents I see. Even more interesting." She looked at the sleeping dragon with a smile. "I was wondering why you did that; the dragon would have never hurt a tamer…" Ginny's eyes widened at the foreign term and Astrid laughed again, more shocked than amused. "And you know not about that gift either."

"What gift? What happened just now?" Astrid looked at her with penetrating eyes; she couldn't be that much older than her, Ginny vaguely noted, but held nothing of her air. She now understood why members of the Sisterhood were treated as royals; they looked the part.

"Walk with me and I'll explain the best I can." Ginny agreed and gathered her discarded satchel. They walked in silence for a while until Astrid spoke. "A tamer or beast-tamer is a wizard or witch with the ability to control and, up to a point and after training, communicate with magical creatures. I saw how those dragons reacted to you this morning; haven't you noticed?"

"I did." Ginny said. "I just didn't know… I didn't think anything of it."

"This dragon wouldn't have hurt you either; it was just curious. It probably had never met a tamer before." Ginny felt oddly guilty about what she had done.

"Is it going to be alright?" She asked the older woman. She simply laughed.

"Oh, you just put it to sleep for a few hours; judging from the song you chose, you never meant to hurt it!" Astrid said.

"But I didn't choose the song!" Ginny protested, making Astrid stop dead in her tracks. This was crazy; just completely and utterly insane!

"What?"

"I didn't even choose the language!" The redhead explained. "I just wanted it to stop." What's wrong with me, she thought, panic starting to rise.

"You didn't know what you were singing?" Astrid asked, looking at the girl shocked.

"No. It was the whispers in my head." Ginny winced at her own explanation, but Astrid seemed thrilled.

"You sang a lullaby. One that I'm very fond of. And the language was Irish." She started walking again. "Sirens are witches that have the power to submit others to their will through their songs. The stronger the listener, the more they resist. The stronger the siren, the more she enchants. And you seem to be a very strong one indeed." Ginny followed Astrid openmouthed. She was a what? But that would explain the dragon asleep in a clearing in the forest behind them. She walked past Astrid lost in her thoughts before she realized the older woman had stopped.

"Why are we stopping?" Ginny asked nervously. Part of her was certain she was soon to wake up any moment now.

"I called Michaela, the friend of mine that came with me to the sanctuary; she's coming to find us." Astrid explained.

"You called her? How?" She never saw the woman draw her wand. Astrid pointed at the necklace she had been holding earlier.

"This pendant is enchanted." She explained. "It warms up when I need to talk to her; every member of the Sisterhood has one when they travel for order related work." The sound of breaking branches alerted them of the arrival of the second witch before Ginny could make any further inquiries. She was a little shorter than Astrid and her skin was dark; her eyes were the color of copper, Ginny realized startled. She also noted both women were very beautiful, in an ethereal sort of way. Kind of spooky too, she added.

"Did you call, Astrid?" She asked, her voice warm. Michaela was around the same age as Astrid, no more than twenty five, but she looked more open, more relaxed. Her copper gaze travelled on Ginny with interest. "Is this the tamer you were talking about? Have you already told her then?" Tell me what? Ginny wondered. That I'm a tamer? I thought she believed I was already aware of that.

"I tried but then I found her putting a dragon to sleep." Astrid stated humorously. Michaela just seemed confused while Ginny looked at her shoes self consciously. "With her voice." Astrid clarified, making the other woman gasp.

"A siren too?" Ginny lifted her eyes from the ground to find Michaela looking at her in confusion. "That's… unusual." She then smiled at Ginny, a real warm smile that put the girl slightly at ease. "And what is your name?" She asked.

"I'm Ginny."

"Well Ginny. We have a proposition for you." Michaela announced. Ginny just stared back blankly.

"Do you know what the Sisterhood is?" Astrid asked. Ginny nodded. "After I saw you this morning, I contacted our leader and she wants to offer you a position in our ranks." Ginny's eyes widened like saucers.

"A what?" Michaela laughed as Astrid continued.

"If you were to agree, you would be marked as a novice for a year. Then, should you agree to join us, you will be given all the information about our order and will perform the initiation ritual." Astrid stated. "You have a year to change your mind, no strings attached. But this is a one in a lifetime experience and a chance to learn and harness your abilities with the only people in the world that can help."

"I know it sounds overwhelming at first." Michaela interjected. "But it really is the chance of a lifetime; once in the Sisterhood you can go on with your normal life but you'll have someone to turn to when the need rises. You're young now and your talents haven't evolved yet. But you'll grow up; these gifts tend to be… burdening at times." He eyes clouded over and Ginny wondered what her gift was. "Take that from someone who knows."

Ginny forced her mind to stop reeling for a few moments so she could think about what was happening. She had just been offered a place in the Sisterhood, to train gifts she didn't even know she had, up to moments ago. It was crazy to say yes. Then again, if she could control her gifts, she would be able to take care of herself. She wouldn't have to lie on a cold floor of a secret chamber waiting to die. She would never be used again. She wouldn't feel helpless. And she could prevent others from being found in her place.

"We understand if you need time. But bear in mind we'll be leaving at sundown and…"

"Yes." Ginny said, looking at the two women. Michaela smiled while Astrid just looked at her surprised.

"Yes? Just like that?"

"I've been in a situation once, when I couldn't defend myself; I felt the same pull I did today, but I didn't know what it was." She explained. "People's lives were endangered that day, including mine. Maybe if I knew what was happening I could have prevented that. I want to learn how." That was probably not the explanation they were expecting from a barely thirteen year old girl but they both seemed to find it more than sufficient. Astrid moved closer to her smiling.

"Then we'll be more than welcome to have you." She muttered something in a language Ginny couldn't understand and her right palm shined light blue. Ginny's eyes widened. "Don't be afraid." Astrid told her and touched her forehead. Easy for you to say, Ginny thought, trying not to consider how fast everything was going. A wave of power traveled from the spot she had touched to her whole body and a strange warmth surrounded her left shoulder blade. Later, when she'd look at her back in the mirror, she would find a black rune tattooed at that spot.

"Done." Michaela stated as the warmth subsided. Ginny couldn't say she felt any different.

"And now?" She asked the two women. They looked at her smiling.

"Now you wait. In a year's time we'll come to find you for the ritual and your initiation, if that's your choice." Astrid said.

"So, we will be knocking on your door next summer." Michaela added, laughing.

"There will be no need." Ginny stated, smiling back, the beginnings of a plan forming in her mind. "I'll be here, I believe." The two women nodded and resumed walking back to the sanctuary; Ginny asked them not to tell her brother yet and they assured they weren't going to. She was afraid of how her family, especially her mother would react if she knew; she might even try to convince her otherwise and Ginny couldn't have that. She had her own secret now, the girl mused. And she would make the best out of it.


	44. The Fruits Of My Labors

Harry Potter was having a good day. No, he was having a  _great_  day. He was currently seated at the back porch of Silbreith, reading at the latest edition of the Daily Prophet. It was the sixth of July and the head title of the newspaper wrote in bold letters;

**THE CURE FOR LYCANTHROPY IS NOW A REALITY: THE INVENTOR OF THE NEW WOLFSBANE TO BE REVEALED WITHIN THE MONTH!**

Harry chuckled at the reaction the news of the potion were causing; he had been there when Severus had strode into the Ministry and filed in the paperwork necessary to begin the testing. After the Minister himself came out of his office to make sure this was no joke and after being convinced that the man in front of him was indeed Severus Snape -Harry applauded internally for the permanent discarding of any concealment charm they had ever used- he immediately approved the testing to commence and easily accepted to have anyone who knew he was the creator of the potion sign a magical contract that would disallow them to talk about it until after her chose to make his name public.

The Minister assumed that was because Severus wanted to be certain of the results; the potions master simply wanted to make sure the news didn't get out before it was time. The right time being Harry's birthday, when the second bombshell would drop. Harry turned the page of the newspaper and was greeted with an extensive article of the uncovering of "the mysterious creator of the Firebolt". He picked up  _Witch_   _Weekly_ ; he had seen an article about that in there somewhere… He started laughing openly at the first few lines. That was how Severus found him, reclining at the couch and laughing his heart out.

"I'm happy to see you too, kid." Severus stated; he looked happier than he had the whole past year, his smile more natural than ever.

"Hi, Dad." Harry greeted him back, still laughing.

"What's so amusing?" He asked intrigued.

" _Witch Weekly_  has published an article by Rita Skeeter; it's about the identities of the "mysterious inventors that took the wizarding world by surprise.". Want to hear it?" Harry asked.

"Sure."

" _You'd have to be hiding under a rock for the past week to miss the startling news that rocked the wizarding world. And in case you have been, allow me to present you with the two greatest mysteries of the year and maybe of the decade; the cure to lycanthropy has been found. Surprising news, you have to agree. But the great mystery is; who is the creator?_ " Severus snorted.

"Good to see my work is appreciated…" Harry stopped him.

"It gets better.  _As my readers may remember, we had found ourselves in the same position last year, when the Firebolt had been put to production; the fastest and best selling broomstick to date was released without mentioning of the creator, rousing quite the speculation about their secret identity. And now, out of the blue, both these mysterious inventors decided to reveal their identities to the world. But why the delay? Was it the need for privacy? It could be. But my inside sources tell me, that the root of the problem might have been located elsewhere. I wouldn't want to speak ahead of time, but there's a high probability that the two inventors are members of the Unspeakables, the most secret unit of the Ministry of Magic; what dark assignment could have kept them from revealing themselves, one wonders?_ " Severus started laughing along with the teenager, sitting next to him on the couch.

"Harry, you should have told me sooner; I could have helped with that assignment!" Severus proclaimed, sending them into a second round of mirthful laughter.

"Later on she says that we might actually be the same person." Harry said, wiping the tears of his face. "We've done a mighty good job of convincing people we're not up to this moment, I would say." Severus nodded emphatically.

"Speaking of Rita Skeeter, I just received word from Nagnok." Harry looked at the potions master confused; Nagnok was the goblin in charge of their financials and as such had taken it upon him tom manage their transition from anonymity to fame, as he put it.

"What does Nagnok have to do with Skeeter?"

"He's scheduled us for interviews with her in two weeks, photoshoot and all. Apparently, he found the interview with the Daily Prophet insufficient." Severus explained. Harry gulped visibly; he had never met her, but that Skeeter woman sounded scary.

"Oh joy." He stated drily. Severus smirked.

"Tell me about it. In other news, what do you say we take the weekend off and head to Brittany?" Severus stated out of the blue.

"Brittany? Sure." Harry said. "Why?"

"Why not?" Severus asked back.

"Valid point."

"Besides, there's a tournament held there you might enjoy. I might enjoy it too." Severus informed him, eyes sparkling.

"A tournament?" Harry asked intrigued.

"Tell me Harry, what have you heard of jousting?" Severus asked, watching Harry's eyes widen in shock.

"On horses?"

"Is there any other way?" He asked as Harry jumped up in joy.

"Can we compete?" Severus nodded.

"In that and in any other part of the melee. It's quite common amongst pureblood families in Europe; I see it as a chance to dress up in chainmail and beat your opponents with blunt objects." Harry chuckled at that and started running towards the stables.

"Where are you going?" Severus asked amused.

"Practicing!" Harry announced, going to do just that. They had to enlist Minnie, who actually knew where the equipment they needed was kept -Severus had no idea they even had it- but they did practice in the end. The lance was heavier than it seemed, the chainmail and armour was probably going to make their muscles ache and it took them more than three hours to finally start hitting the target. All in all, both wizards couldn't be happier when they retired for the night.

The week passed in a similar manner, Severus continuing with his tests for the Wolfsbane, all results coming back positive; the full moon had come and gone and the werewolves had simply transformed into their wolf form, feeling nothing more than the usual animagus transformation. No pain and no tiredness however and Severus was over the moon. Those had been his words exactly, Harry thought, laughing at the pun.

Friday came by fast and they found themselves checking in a hotel for two nights, using they're real names for the first time while abroad. Severus enrolled them for the tournament the same day; Harry would compete in the minors' league as he was still under seventeen, something that probably gave him the advantage. At least it looked that way, as most of the contestants seemed to be there just for the fun. Nothing could have warned them for the extremely competitive spirit and many years of swordfight training Severus and Harry had brought with them.

The first day of the tournament included every part of the melee but jousting; as Severus and Harry had only signed up for one to one swordfight, the first event of the day, they would have the rest day free to enjoy the fair. People had flooded from around the continent to participate; most were dressed in medieval grab and Harry insisted they did the same; Severus was easily persuaded.

The minors were up first and Harry found himself in armour, facing a sixteen year old boy that was about his height but disproportionally self-assured. Harry just smirked before he unleashed years of pent up frustration on his opponent; it turned out to be much more fulfilling than hitting an inanimate target. The two wizards slashed and parried their way to the first place with similar manic gleams on their faces. Severus had to face a man twice his size in the finals but, unfortunately for him, extremely slow; the bigger they are the more spectacular they fall, Harry thought as he cheered from the stands holding his own trophy.

"Votre père?" A man asked the green eyed boy; Harry just smiled.

"Oui. C'est mon père." He answered as Severus received his award. He was his father and if someone dared contest that, well, he had a sword sheathed on his belt and a wand ready that could persuade them otherwise. The man nodded as if he understood; he probably did.

"How'd you like that?" Severus asked happily, holding his own trophy as he approached Harry.

"You fought bravely, Sir Dad." Harry declared in his best knightly voice. "I believe a visit at the closest tavern is called for. What say you?"

"Aye, Sir Harry." Severus answered chuckling. "I find myself agreeing." The closest tavern turned out to be a faithful image of what you'd expect from a medieval inn. And in classic medieval fashion, the winners of the tournament bought the whole place a drink. That turned into a lovely celebratory party, which ended up with the two wizards in question leaving a few hours later amidst loud applause.

They stopped by the stables to make sure their horses were tended; Severus had insisted that since they had signed up for the tournament, they should compete in style and had arranged for Titan and Ares, the largest -and most vicious- stallions in Silbreith's stables, to be sent in. Alfie, Minnie's husband and head of the stables, had made sure they had arrived safe and would be prepared for the tournament; the house elf had been ecstatic mumbling how the horses were finally getting their chance to compete as they were supposed to. Seeing they seemed almost gleeful every time their riders took down a target, Harry tended to believe the horses thought the same thing.

The next morning dawned bright and the contestants gathered at the field. The names of each contestant in the two leagues were announced and so was the prize; it turned out there would be a dance at the local castle that night to celebrate the end of the tournament and the winners would get to accompany two Ladies of extreme beauty, as the herald put it. Harry was getting a kick out of there even being a herald so Severus had to point his attention to the two ladies in question. Harry tried to gather his jaw from the floor where it had fallen; the two ladies were veela. A Fleur Delacour and an Amélie Ferrier were appointed at Harry's and Severus's leagues respectively and were presently smiling at the gathered crowd.

"Harry?" Severus asked.

"Yes, Dad?"

"We're winning this thing." The potions master proclaimed.

"Yes, we are." Harry agreed, eyeing a chubby contestant of his group who was wolf whistling at the two women. "To save the Ladies' honors from scum as the like of him, if for nothing else." Severus turned to look at the boy distastefully and nodded his agreement.

First to start again were the minors. The fourteen contestants rode in front of the two ladies; Harry was second to last and swore to himself that he wouldn't drool like an idiot. To his great pride, he managed to keep his promise and nodded kindly to Fleur, who smiled mischievously in return; he was so winning this.

To his delight, the first opponent was the chubby boy he had seen before; he didn't pay attention to what his name was; he baptized him Voldemort and charged. The trick seemed to work, the boy ending up on the ground. The crowd cheered on and so did Fleur who, after his second victory, threw him her handkerchief. Harry just smirked and turned to face his third opponent eagerly. He didn't know if it was the handkerchief that did it in the end, or the fact that he envisioned each and every rider he was paired with as a certain Dark Lord, but he won. He was given a standing ovation, one that Fleur had joined. He smiled widely as he went back to the stables and wished Severus good luck as they crossed paths on horseback.

The potions master congratulated him with a friendly punch on the shoulder and proceeded to exit to the arena. Things turned ugly at his third fight as the man he was up against had taken a liking to Amélie quite some time ago and decided to play dirty; he started riding before the signal was given, his move resulting to the lances both finding their targets; the man was thrown of his horse and banned from any tournament from that day onward while Severus found himself with a bruised left shoulder.

Since the rules of the tournament were clear that a contestant could not heal any wound until the end of the joust, Severus had to continue like that. The matter had of course turned personal and the next few opponents found themselves facing and extremely angry Severus Snape. _Nobody_  wanted to find himself facing an angry Severus Snape and the contestants soon found out why. Six broken lances and one fainted opponent later found him victorious to the delight of Amélie who cheered and ran from the stands along with Fleur when it was time to award the trophies.

As they found out later, the two were cousins. As Harry found out from Fleur, after Severus and Amélie disappeared to Merlin knew where -asking Harry's permission making the boy roll his eyes at Severus and shoo him away, with orders not to see him until the next morning- she was attending Beauxbatons and was about to enter her seventh and last year. She didn't quite believe Harry when he said he was only fourteen.

"Mais tu es aussi grand que moi!" She complained, to which Harry laughed and pointed out that his height was irrelevant. He also turned the situation into more out of school orientated matters, making her forget his age quite fast. Soon, the talk turned into how he was the first one to not step on her toes while dancing -she had had the same place in the tournament the past two years- and how they both were interested in charms.

The dance ended a little after midnight with Severus nowhere in sight. Harry laughed to himself and was once again glad he had insisted they had separate hotel rooms since he had turned eleven. Go Sev, was all he could think as he escorted Fleur outside. His amusement was probably why he didn't notice Fleur coming closer before she was far too close to avoid. Not that he was complaining.

He had his first kiss in the garden of a castle, at the end of a ball, after winning a jousting tournament. With Fleur, who was not only a veela, but a very interesting person at her own right. Not bad at all, he mused. And, even if he had no idea what he was doing, instinct took over and the first kiss turned into a second, the second into a third and so on, until he stopped counting. It was a very happy if slightly ruffled Harry Potter that returned to his room that night.

He saw Severus the next morning in breakfast; the potions master looked even more tired than he had last night and a scratch was quite visible under the collar of his shirt. Harry wore his best smirk for the occasion and plopped himself on a chair across the potions master.

"Good morning!" He greeted Severus jovially. The potions master smiled wide and greeted him back.

"Good morning. And how was your night?" Harry's smirk widened.

"It was very nice." He held back a chuckle. "I see you took my order to heart and stayed away for the night." Severus's eyes narrowed as he threw him a nasty look. "No, I meant that! I would have kicked you out if you had come back!" Severus knew the last part wasn't a joke; still he wasn't entirely comfortable to talk about things like that with his innocent son. Then his eyes fell right above Harry's collar and his eyes widened; _innocent_  was up for debate.

"Doesn't look like I was missed." He stated, confusing the green eyed wizard.

"Why would you say that?" Harry asked.

"Because  _that_ ," Severus said pointing at the offending mark with his fork "is  _not_  a bruise." Harry's hand flew to his neck immediately; he had thought his shirt would have covered that up. "So, let me ask you again." Severus began smirking. "How was your night?"

"Less eventful than yours." Harry offered, pointing at the potions master scratch. "At least I wasn't clawed alive." Severus sighed and rolled his eyes.

"What do you say we drop this before we end up scaring the rest of the visitors?" Harry chuckled in response.

"Touché?"

"Yep." Severus stated, popping the "p".

"Seriously though, that must have hurt." Harry stated looking at the scratch mark once again; Severus groaned and let his head fall on the table. Harry burst out laughing.

The next week brought along the dreaded interview with Rita Skeeter. They had already spoken to journalists from the Daily Prophet and, after some confused stares, everything had run smoothly. How much different could that be? Severus thought as they entered the offices of  _Witch Weekly_  in Diagon Alley. They had been ushered in to the place of the photoshoot by an overeager to help secretary -Harry was still smirking when they walked in- where Rita Skeeter was expecting them. Her eyes widened once they fell on them and her face assumed a predatory look. The two wizards shared a look of pure terror as she approached them.

"Mr. Potter and Professor Snape?" She asked in a saccharine voice. Harry nodded, trying not to scowl. Was she for real? Her blond hair was elaborately done in a bun and her terracotta glasses gave her already angular face a positively fox-like look. The fact that she was eyeing them up and down didn't help either.

"Yes." Severus stated. "Good morning, Miss Skeeter." The woman smiled broadly, momentarily reminding Harry of Lockheart. Not a good thing to be reminded of in any case.

"And you know each other?" She asked thrilled. "You seem a little more comfortable with each other than rumour would have me believe. Then again, you look different too." She wiggled her eyebrows and Severus gulped, reminding himself that he had faced the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters in the war. He would not be intimidated. "Richie!" She called over her shoulder. A man appeared from behind the corner; he was dressed very fashionably and was probably the photographer, if the film he was holding was any indication.

"Found what I have to strive and make presentable, darling?" He asked, before his eyes fell onto the two wizards. "Well that's more like it! Tell me it's them!" Rita smiled and nodded, causing Richie to burst into a flurry of motions. "Oh dear! You two just sit there and finish your interviews; I have it all under control!" And he left leaving them alone with the journalist. Harry felt like he had walked into the nut house, but kindly tried not to let on.

"You never answered my question." Rita sing-songed. Harry spoke for the first time; they had already spoken of their mentor-pupil relationship to the Prophet, thinking it was time that was made clear; Harry believed it would help with Severus's reputation in school too.

"Severus and I have known each other for years." Harry stated, half-stressing Severus's given name instead of his surname to pass his point across. "He has looked after me since I was nothing but a baby; you can say I pretty much grew up in his house." Rita seemed ready to burst at the news.

"So, you wouldn't mind if we did a double interview?" She asked, clapping her hands; all that crossed through Harry and Severus's minds at the time was that they would have to spend half the time with her; they readily agreed. "Excellent!" She exclaimed and led them to a desk that had been set up especially for the interview. "Let's start from the beginning, shall we? When did you two first meet?"

"At Harry's second birthday." Severus stated.

"That was some time ago!" She stated, her eyes shinning. "And how did you go from that to practically raising Harry?" Having already decided on the answer to that question, Harry began explaining.

"I was four no, more like five, I think?" He asked Severus, trying to make everything seem less rehearsed.

"More like five." Severus agreed.

"I was in Hogwarts with my parents for a visit to professor Dumbledore; I had already met with Severus many times before, but I caught him brewing a potion…"

"And he started asking questions…" Severus interjected smiling, remembering the incident; it hadn't happened exactly as described but it was close.

"And I never stopped." Harry finished the sentence chuckling. Rita battered her eyelids and wrote everything down.

"After that, every time his parents were working I volunteered to look after him and with the passing of time, he ended up spending most of his time at my place while growing up." Rita smiled again and jotted the answer down.

"And you live at London, if I'm not mistaken?" Severus smirked slightly, making her pause for a few moments and just stare.

"I haven't for quite sometime, no." He admitted; he hoped someone would ask that question.

"Then were do you live?"

"You might have heard of it? It's called Silbreith." The potions master stated.

"The Prince's castle in Scottland?" Rita asked, her eyes widening. Harry jerked back slightly to the shrill quality of her voice.

"Oh you have heard of it." The teen commented.

"But isn't it supposed to be inherited by members of the Prince line alone?"

"A line of which -from my mother's side- I'm the last living descendant." Severus stated lightly, as if it was the simplest thing in the world. Rita was openly gapping and leering as she harried to write down the answer. Severus had requested she used a regular quill for the interview and he was happy to see she had complied.

"So Harry, how was it growing up in Silbreith?"

"Oh, indescribable!" Harry exclaimed, being completely truthful. "The library is extensive, the grounds incredible and even contain a lake. The Quidditch field is of professional standards too. And we've been going horse riding since I can remember." Harry explained.

"We figured out that staying in a castle went hand in hand with some specific activities." Severus admitted smiling. "So we started with horse riding and then came swordfight."

"And jousting lately." Harry added with a chuckle.

"Jousting?" Rita screeched. "As in the Rennes tournament jousting?" She asked. They two wizards shared a look and laughed.

"It's funny you mentioned that." Severus explained as he noticed her questioning gaze.

"We just returned from that tournament a week ago." Harry added.

"You competed?"

"We won." They answered at the same time. Rita looked as if Christmas had come early.

"Since time is pressuring us." She stated pouting. "Tell me of what led you to your inventions. Let's start with Severus?" Oh, we're one first name basis now? The potions master wondered.

"It was an ongoing process for many years. I have witnessed the effects lycanthropy has on a wizard up close and decided to try and do something about it; it took me years, many unsuccessful efforts and patience, but it's finally done." He turned that the green eyed wizard next to him proudly. "Harry helped actually."

"Nonsense!" Harry proclaimed.

"He would never admit it though." Severus offered. Rita looked between the two before starting writing again.

"And how about the Firebolt?" She asked. "A thirteen year old designing a racing broomstick is unheard of."

"It all started when I was eleven at Silbreith. I always loved Quidditch…"

"You're the Seeker for Gryffindor in Hogwarts correct? Youngest Seeker of the century?" She interrupted him. The boy nodded unfazed.

"That would be correct. Anyway, Severus offered to give me all the old broomsticks of the castle to take apart; designing came naturally and before I knew it, there was the Firebolt. Which wouldn't have been put into production if Sev hadn't convinced me to hand in the designs, I might add." The journalist was jotting everything down frantically.

"That is…" She cleared her throat. "So, any future plans?"

"Well, we're returning to Hogwarts this September, I to teach and Harry to continue with his studies but we already have come up with something you'll be hearing about soon." The potions master admitted. Free publicity, Nagnok had called it.

"You have?" She asked.

"Oh yes." Harry began. "It's a joined project, called a  _Memory Sphere_."

"Sounds intriguing."

"You'll be the judge of that." Harry stated smiling.

"How so?" She asked flattered.

"We have never talked about it before." Severus explained. Rita made a small exclamation and readied herself to write down whatever it was they were referring to.

"A memory sphere, pretty much honours its name." Harry explained. "It works as a small Pensive, but only records and replays a memory that happens the moment it is activated. It has room for six hours worth of memories and will be out just in time for the Quidditch World Cup."

"Merlin's beard!" She exclaimed. "You two have been busy." They nodded at the understatement of that sentence.

"Now, I would like to know…"

"Rita, darling, what have you done with my models?" The voice of Richie the photographer saved them from further questioning. "We're running _late_."

"Can't I have five more minutes?" She asked pouting, looking at the two wizards like she wanted to tie them to a chair and keep them there.

"Five more minutes are  _never_  five minutes with you." Richie stated and came to collect Harry and Severus. "Oh you did a double interview? Perfect! We'll fit that into the photoshoot! Now come on! You have to change and we don't have all day!" He ordered them and they obediently rose from their chairs to follow him. Rita stopped them as they tried to walk away.

"I will catch up to you two darlings." She stated straightening Harry's collar and patting Severus on the chest. "Quite soon I hope." And she turned around and left, leaving back two stunned and slightly disturbed wizards.

"Did she just…?" Harry asked gulping.

"She did." Severus agreed.

"Come on, you handsome boys! We don't have all day I'm telling you!" Richie exclaimed.

"And now he'll do it too, won't he?" Harry asked perturbed.

"Most probably." Severus agreed, pushing his shoulders back straight to face his destiny. Nightfall found them at Silbreith, cooped up in the library, pretty much hiding from the world.

"That was horrible." Harry admitted for the tenth time. And for the tenth time, Severus agreed.

"It was." He stated. He was in the process of putting all the books he had used during his research for the Wolfsbane back to their proper places in the library.

"Dad?" Harry asked, a few moments later, his eyes skimming over the titles of the books still on the floor. His expression was pensive, as Severus had caught him look more than a couple times since the end of the term.

"Yes, Harry?" The boy gulped and looked at the potions master as if in doubt. "You can tell me anything, Harry. You know that."

"It not about being able to tell  _you_ …" The boy muttered and Severus smirked in understanding. Harry had been just fine talking about what they could tell his family; what would be prudent and what would be hilarious to have them know had been discussed more than once during the past weeks without troubling Harry more than what was expected. The one thing that hadn't come up in any conversation had been Neville. Well, that seemed about to change.

"You want to tell Neville, don't you?" Green eyes widened as an answer to Severus' smirk.

"Was I that obvious?" Harry asked, smiling softly.

"Well no, but you are my son. I don't really see how you could hide the fact that something was bothering you from me. Connecting the dots from there wasn't that difficult."

"I see."

"And what would you wish to tell him?" Severus asked, already knowing the answer.

"Would you be mad at me if I said "everything"?" Harry asked, his eyes downcast. The potions master sighed, walking closer to Harry, his hand falling comfortingly on the teen's shoulder.

"I would caution you that your secret is something to be protected. I would say that you should be careful still. That you should think this though, although I suspect that you have already considered every possible scenario. But no, I wouldn't be mad." Harry's eyes snapped back up to stare at the potions master's black ones.

"You wouldn't?"

"No." Severus assured him. "Neville has been there for you and he is one of those rare people that are fiercely loyal without being ridiculously headstrong. Well, not always at least." Harry chuckled at the latest admission.

"Yes, he is. And, Dad." Harry began, pinching the bridge of his nose, breathing in. "He has been a brother to me, this past year. More than Adrian has ever been and how sad is that, really?" The teen wondered, putting his conclusions of the past year to words for the first time. "I feel that I need to tell him."

"I understand, I think. But do be careful, Harry. If you tell him, I would like to teach him the basics of Oclumency. Not that I believe anyone would try to read Neville's mind but I would rather not take the risk." Harry smiled and ran straight into the potions master's arms.

"Would you really do that?"

"Did you ever doubt I would?" Severus asked, pulling back and messing his son's hair, eyes sparkling happily. "Owl him tomorrow and invite him over. I'll be right here when you tell him." Harry's answering smile was blinding in its intensity.

"Thank you, Dad!" He exclaimed, hugging the potions master one more time.

"Don't mention it." Severus assured him. "And thank you for telling me first; had you just blurted out everything to Neville I would have been mad, I assure you." Harry smirked and nodded.

"You know I would never do that." Severus nodded back.

"Now, would you like to help your father with this mess," Severus said, pointing at the books on the floor "or would you rather write that letter now."

"I think I'll stay and help a little while longer." Harry offered, Bending down to pick up a hefty old tome on herbs. "I hadn't even realized how many books you've read during the past seven years!" Severus nodded and looked around wondering just how many books he had read himself.

Considering the amount of time it had taken him to complete the potion, he was only now finishing tidying up, reaching to the bottom of the piles of books he had collected over the years. He was now looking at books he had placed there and forgotten, books that he hadn't seen in years. One in particular, caught his attention; he had buried it in the deepest recesses of his mind, back then not deeming himself worthy of the hope it offered; now? Now he felt like he should read it again. But for that, he would have to be alone. Harry gave him the perfect excuse when he yawned visibly a few minutes later. As much as he had wished to help, their busy day had exhausted him.

"Merlin, I'm beat!" The boy exclaimed.

"Off to bed with you then." Severus stated. Harry rose and stretched pointing at the pile of books in front of Severus still.

"You sure you don't need my help with these?"

"No." Severus offered, picking up yet another book and putting it on its proper self. "I'm probably going to make the mature choice and finish them tomorrow. Now go and rest; you have a big day tomorrow!" Harry laughed and bid the potions master good night. Severus stood there and waited for the teen's footsteps to stop echoing from the hallway before opening the book he was looking at; it was the very same book on emblems he had given Harry seven years ago. He turned the pages slowly until he found what he was looking for. The incantation to create an emblem was there, right were he remembered it.

" _There came a time, after the war, when wizards would be marked as slaves with the emblem of their adversary. This dark magic would sip into their bones and reside there until either the death of the man who branded them or the creation of their own emblem; no witch or wizard can magically carve two separate emblems on their bodies, the two sources of magic represented fighting for dominance…_ " Severus read the passage he had found so many years ago softly. " _…the wizards baring their master's symbol may choose to cast it off, replacing it with their own emblem. The process has been described as excruciating by most…_ " Severus turned his eyes back to the incantation and sat down on the floor slowly, placing the book in front of him. He rolled up his left sleeve carefully.

The Dark Mark was there, mocking him as it always had, faded but always present. The second war was coming, the potions master thought, and his skills as spy might have been useful, were the circumstances different. At that point, he would have trouble convincing Voldemort of his loyalties and, most importantly, he did not believe he would be able to do it. It wasn't his place in the war anymore, hiding in the shadows. It wasn't his place in life either; he was going to fight openly this time around, whether that made him a bigger target or not. He looked at the description of the procedure again; excruciating pain. So, basically, writhe in pain and you're getting it right? He thought sarcastically; I've got experience with that, he figured and pulled out his wand. It was the ending chapter in his life as a Death Eater, if he did it right;  _of_   _course_  it was going to hurt.

He cast the incantation before he could give himself time to have second thoughts. A soft white smoke exited his wand and slowly circled the Dark Mark. There was no pain as the mist like spell drew closer and closer to his skin and for a moment he thought he had done something wrong. He needn't worry; the pain soon came. He gasped at the abrupt change of feeling slightly numb to burning with pain; the mist touched his skin like a million burning needles and just sipped deeper and deeper, causing Severus to slump backwards on the thick carpet, looking at the ceiling with unseeing eyes.

It was as if his blood had caught fire, as if his skin was being peeled of his body, the focal point of his torture being his left forearm. The only thing that kept him from screaming was all the times he had held his pain silent while under the Cruciatus, but even that was pushing it. He was about to give in and just scream his agony out when, with a final push outwards that made him feel as if he had surely lost his arm, the pain stopped.

He lay on the carpet panting, not moving a muscle afraid he might trigger another round of pain. A few minutes later, he moved his head to the side ever so little; the good news were, he still had his arm. The bad news were, he'd have to move it to make sure if the spell had worked. Slowly flexing his complaining muscles, he lifted his hand off the floor, not daring to look. He seemed to have full mobility and that encouraged him to take a peek. There was still some smoke emanating from the area, the mark of strong magic having been cast. His veins were protruding as if he had practiced swordfight for hours and every muscle was sore.

And were the Dark Mark once stood now appeared a black twirling symbol, looking like a combination of a Celtic cross and a star, four points sprouting out from the middle of the cross. It was barely three and a half inches long and two inches wide and he could see the marks of his potions, dark arts, transfiguration and charms mastery as well as many apprenticing marks placed strategically around it. Everything was there, down to the runes for Animagus knitted in the main body of the emblem. Severus just lifted his arm higher and then brought it to his chest, palm over his rapidly beating heart.

He started laughing in pure relief, looking at the ceiling and cradling his left arm with his right until the tears came. And he just stayed there, on the library floor, laughing and crying for everything this emblem meant, until he managed to lull himself into sleep.

 


	45. Surprises Long Overdue

It had been tough explaining to Harry exactly what had happened the next morning. But, where words failed him, just showing the boy his newly acquired emblem made Harry first stare in shock and then start jumping up and down around the room. The event was classically celebrated with chocolate and a trip to Diagon Alley; Severus had to oversee some of the last tests of the Wolfsbane that afternoon in the Ministry, even though he was trying to avoid Fudge who had presented him with an invitation to be present as the guest of honour in a gala he would throw on the thirtieth of July. Harry urged him to go, reminding him that his family wouldn't be back before the afternoon of the thirty first. He then proceeded to pester him about his birthday present that the potions master denied to reveal.

All that talk of presents, Severus knew, was to distract the teen from all thoughts of a certain later he had send first thing in the morning. Harry had written to one Neville Longbottom and had asked him whether he would like to spend a few days in his house over the summer. He had enclosed the address of Potter Manor and the plan was to take Neville to Silbreith from there. It had been all fairly simple as far as plans went, Severus thought as Harry related what he had written exactly over their respective chocolate ice-creams.

"I don't know what would be worse." Harry admitted, steadily turning his ice-cream into mush, twirling it around with his spoon. "Nev writing back he can't come and having to find out everything from the newspapers -I just can't write everything down in a letter!- or coming over and hating me for everything I have kept secret."

"You're the personification of optimism, Harry." Severus stated dryly, eyeing his son carefully. "Have you considered Neville might just take things much more calmly than you expect him to?"

"Because all my plans usually go smoothly, right?" Harry wondered out loud, his head falling on the table. A teenage girl a few tables to the left giggled and then blushed when Harry turned confused green eyes on her. Severus just shook his head at the whole scene.

"I'm just saying you had better wait and see. You might be pleasantly surprised, that's what I mean." The potions master persisted. "Look, should things take a turn for the worse, I'll be right there. You know that." Harry nodded once before changing the subject to the first batch of Memory Spheres put in production; no matter the outcome, over-thinking the situation would only worry him more.

Still, as much as he had tried to reason with himself, he couldn't help the small panic attack that seized him once he read Neville's reply that informed him that, of course, he would love to come stay at his house for a few days! His grandmother had apparently been overjoyed that her grandson had some connection with the Potters -even if Harry was certain she would have preferred that connection to be with his older brother- and having Neville spend a week at the Potter Manor had pleased her immensely. It was with a rapidly beating heart and barely an hour of sleep that Harry arrived at Potter Manor two days later, waiting to pick up Neville along with an unnervingly calm Severus. They had placed their concealment charms for "one last show" as the potions master had put it, and the once familiar blanket of magic now felt completely restrictive on Harry's frame after walking freely without it for a month.

"Will you stop fidgeting?" Severus asked the teen who was waiting next to him as he tried to keep his own demeanour calm; Harry didn't need to see him worrying too. The boy could barely hold himself together as it was.

"I had almost forgotten how the concealment charms felt." He shrugged his shoulders as if to throw the spells off. "It's a little weird."

"Admittedly, it is." Severus conceded. Right then the grandfather clock in the hall chimed ten and the flames in the fireplace turned green in a matter of seconds. The potions master raised an amused eyebrow; Harry had written to Neville and explained that he would be there too so the boy would somewhat ease into the whole revelation plot. Apparently, Neville didn't feel like leaving the widely feared potions master waiting.

"Here goes." Harry muttered as his friend walked out of the fireplace with a bag thrown over his shoulder. Neville had grown up, Harry realised with a start; he had definitely gotten taller and the baby fat was leaving his face. He seemed to be growing into his limbs too, the green eyes wizard noted, as he barely stumbled while walking out of the flames.

"Hello, Harry!" He exclaimed jovially, his voice a bit deeper than Harry remembered. "Professor Snape." The smile on his face slipped a little as his eyes landed on the black clad form of his teacher. Severus nodded as Harry walked towards his friend and hugged him warmly.

"Hey there, Nev! Getting taller, I see!" No matter how worried he was, Harry soon found out his spirits had lifted at the sight of his best friend.

"So Gran says." The teen admitted. "Well," he began, looking around the house "where do I put my stuff?" Harry turned to glimpse at Severus who nodded encouragingly.

"Actually, Nev, we won't be staying here." Harry admitted, looking at his friend seriously.

"We won't?" The boy asked, confusion etched on his face.

"I stay at Sev's over the holidays. Well, I stay at Sev's for much longer than the holidays but… Look, I promise I'll explain everything." Harry stopped and took a deep breath. "Remember how I said that there were a few things about me that I couldn't share?" Neville nodded. "I think it's time I did."

"And not staying at the manor has something to do with that, correct?" Neville asked, showcasing the same depth of perception Harry had witnessed during the past year. The teen looked confused but not wary and the raven haired wizard took that as a good sign to proceed.

"Yes. It has everything to do with that." Harry admitted, his voice ringing steady and much more firm than he presently felt.

"We'll have to use the floo network once more, if you don't mind." Severus offered, speeding up the process. "I'll go first, you'll go second and Harry will follow after you." The boy nodded in understanding, blanching just a bit but overall reacting better than he had last Christmas when they had ventured to Diagon Alley for his new wand; he hadn't forgotten it seemed and in that very moment Severus understood why Harry had chosen to trust him with his secret. With all the loyalty burning inside the young Longbottom heir, the boy could just as well have been a Hufflepuff and Severus meant that as the best of compliments. "You have nothing to fear, I assure you." Neville took one look at his friend's hopeful eyes and nodded firmly, his mind made up.

"Lead the way then, professor." Severus smiled at the boy -who seemed more shocked at that simple gesture than he had been at the whole conversation so far- and stepped into the once again green flames.

"Silbreith!" He pronounced and he was gone in burst of emerald, leaving Harry and Neville alone for a few moments.

"Just enter the fireplace and say "Silbreith", okay?" Harry questioned.

"Silbreith, got it." Neville stated, nodding once more.

"And I promise Nev, I'll explain everything." Green eyes lowered to stare at the floor for a few moments. "Just, please, once we get there, let me get everything out of my chest before you ask any questions; I'll answer everything, I swear, just…" He stared into his best friend's brown eyes beseechingly. "It's going to be a little difficult for me, laying everything out in the open."

"Okay then." Neville agreed, walking towards the fireplace. "I trust you, Harry, you know that." Then he turned around, a handful of floo powder in his grasp and a slight smirk on his face. "Just cut it with the prologues, if you would; it doesn't take much for my imagination to come up with the worst case scenario." He frowned slightly. "You're not dying from some rare disease and professor Snape is the only one capable of producing the counter-potion, right?" Harry just stared blankly at his friend, blinking once, twice, before dissolving into laughter.

"No, nothing like that." He assured him, wiping the tears off his face.

"Okay then." Neville repeated, throwing the powder at the flames and clearly pronouncing the name of his destination. The moment the fire returned to normal, Harry took a deep, calming breath and followed his best friend home, trying not to think too much on what he was about to do. By the time he stepped out of the fireplace in Silbreith -now surrounded by the welcome familiarity of home and his father's secure presence- he had half convinced himself he could do this. Neville was his friend and his brother in all that counted; he owed him his trust and his honesty. Speaking of Neville, the teen seemed completely awed by his surroundings. Harry had never, not for a single moment in his life, stopped appreciating the beauty of Silbreith, but that first jaw-dropping wonder of living in a castle had worn off, giving its place to the much deeper and warmer sense of simply being home. His best friend's reaction however was completely understandable.

"Is this Hogwarts?" Neville asked, looking around carefully.

"No." Severus explained.

"But it  _is_  a castle." The boy stated, his eyes roaming from the high, arched ceiling all the way down to the hardwood floors and everything in between.

"It is." Harry assured him, making his presence known to his distracted friend.

"It's called Silbreith and it's located in Scotland, a bit further to the north than Hogwarts." Severus provided, ever helpful. "Harry and I however, simply call it  _home_." Neville's eyes immediately widened at that proclamation, as his attention focused on his best friend and his potions' professor.

"I… what?" Harry smiled softly.

"Would you like to take this to the library? It would be much more comfortable than just standing here." Trying not to ponder much on the fact that Severus Snape's home -and Harry's too?- not only was a castle but also had its own library, Neville nodded numbly following his friend's lead. The corridors and stairwells passed them by as they walked in silence, Neville trying to take everything in. So, professor Snape lived in a castle. Huh. From all the things he had expected when Harry had told him that there was more to the potions master than what he let on, him being a castle owner wasn't even in the list. After walking down an imposing gallery -the portraits seemed just as shocked to see him, Neville thought, as he was to find himself in a castle- they reached a set of grand double doors that must have been the ones leading to the library, the teen concluded, as they stopped in front of them. Harry smiled encouragingly at his friend before stepping forward and pushing the doors open.

It  _was_  the library, Neville realised as he stared away slack-jawed, the rays of the morning sun seeping in through the stained glass covering the largest part of the wall opposite to him bathing the two floors filled with books in colourful light. Someone cleared his throat behind him and Neville turned around to gawk at one professor Snape; the man in question was bestowing him the same reassuring smile his best friend had a few moments before, stunning him once more to silence.

"I believe I should leave you here." He stated calmly, turning his attention to Harry. "When you're finished or if you need anything, call for Minnie and she'll notify me, okay?" Harry nodded. It was time.

"Of course. Thanks, Dad." Neville gasped just as Severus' smile broadened; the potions master felt as if he could smile away forever. This was the first time Harry had called him Dad in the presence of someone who knew who they were, other than the house elves of the castle, and the warmth his title procured flooded his heart like the most potent Pepper-Up potion in the world. With one last smile, he exited the library, leaving one determined and one astounded boy in his midst.

" _Dad_?" Neville echoed, his head spinning.

"Yes." Harry stated, an apologetic smile on his face; not for calling Severus his father per se, never that, but for dropping the bomb so unceremoniously on his unsuspecting friend. "And that's not even near the end of it."

"Dad?" Neville repeated. "That's your secret? Professor Snape is your father? But you're Adrian's twin! Is Professor Snape his father too? How could that be? I mean, no offence, but Adrian's the spitting image of your Dad, I mean of Mr. Potter, I mean… I don't even know what I mean!" The teen exclaimed, a hand flying to his head, feeling dizzy. Harry, noticing his friend's distress, walked forward.

"Maybe we should sit down for this. Or at least you should." He amended as he led Neville backwards and on one of the armchairs in front of the fireplace. "I'd rather stand, if you don't mind." The brown eyed teen grunted as a form of an answer, waiting expectantly for his dizzy spell to pass and for Harry to explain. "Minnie!" The boy called suddenly, making Neville gasp. A loud cracking sound later, a house elf -donning a clean and fluffy towel- appeared looking worriedly at Harry.

"Yes, young master Harry? Is everything alright?" The young master in question smiled and nodded.

"As alright as it can be, Minnie, don't worry. Could you, please, bring us some cold water? We might need it." The elf nodded and disappeared only to return with a silver tray, a pitcher of water and two crystal glasses on it.

"Would that be all, master Harry?" The house elf inquired.

"For now. Just, do tell Dad not to wear a hole in the hallway's floor with his pacing, will you?" He added as an afterthought, smirking slightly; he wasn't really in the mood for joking, but he didn't want to worry poor Minnie too. "I'm quite fond of the carpet." He concluded. His words seemed to have the desired effect as the house elf's forehead relaxed, the worried frown slipping away.

"Of course, master Harry sir." And with another cracking sound, she was gone.

"Young master? Merlin's beard, you truly are his son!" Neville cried out.

"Yes." Harry agreed. "Maybe however, I should take this from the beginning. And when I say from the beginning, I'm afraid I'll have to go back fifteen years ago, back when Voldemort was at his strongest. Just bare with me for a while."

"Fifteen years ago, you said?" Neville asked, his shock and confusion over the latest developments overriding his deeply rooted fear at the mention of Voldemort's name.

"Give or take a month." Harry explained, smiling ruefully.

"If you think that it'll help you explain…"

"It will."

"Then by all means, explain." Neville almost pleaded, sinking deeper into the plush armchair. Harry nodded in accordance and starting pacing up and down in front of his best friend, recalling the order in which he had decided he should narrate all that had happened to him. Abruptly he stopped, his eyes staring intently at Neville.

"In order for you to understand exactly what has happened, I'll need to relate to you two prophecies. One was made more than a thousand years ago and one only fifteen years past. They both mention the same chain of events, more or less, one being more detailed than the other. I should probably start with the chronologically newer one; it was the one that set everything into motion after all. With me so far?" Neville looked at him completely astounded but utterly intrigued. Prophecies? Two of them? What was going on here?

"I'm trying." He answered, making an effort to follow what his friend was saying.

"Alright then. As I was saying, fifteen years ago, Voldemort was stronger than he had ever been; everything showed that he would win the war and our side was suffering the consequences. And then, out of the blue, a prophecy was made. A prophecy that contained clues of Voldemort's downfall." Neville's attention was completely focused on the story and he didn't even bother to stop and flinch in fear at the Dark Lord's name, afraid Harry would stop his narration.

"And?" He prodded, making Harry smile sadly. In the form of an answer, Harry began reciting.

_"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies ..."_ The words of both the prophecies had been seared into his mind, a result of repeating them many a time on the nights he couldn't sleep, trying to make some semblance of sense out of them. Was it better to know of your future or be blissfully unawares until it became the present? So far, his ponderings had only caused him headache; as much as he would wish to just lead a life not constantly marred by the shadow of fear these prophecies had cast upon him, he knew he wouldn't have had the life he led now without them. Finally, he had simply decided that "forewarned is forearmed" and had left it to that. What was the point in hoping to change something that had already happened?

"What?" Neville asked, mulling over the prophecy. "Who made that prophecy?"

"This prophecy was made by our very own Professor Trelawney, Nev, and to none other than Albus Dumbledore." The dizziness seemed to make a vicious comeback as Neville clutched his head in his palms.

"I can't bloody believe it!" He exclaimed, even if his demeanor clearly stated he had already started to, hence the headache.

"I couldn't at first either." The greened eyed wizard admitted, a hand rubbing the left side of his face tiredly. "If you'd like, after I finish explaining everything, I could show you the memories of how I came to know of both prophecies; hell, I could even repeat everything I'm about to relate under Veritaserum, if you'd prefer it…"

"There won't be a need for that." Neville assured him. He didn't really doubt Harry. But, Merlin, he had so many questions begging to be asked, his mind was buzzing in anticipation! Prudently he chose to let Harry continue with his narration. Maybe he would answer some of his unasked questions by himself.

"Thank you, Nev." Harry stated sincerely; having Neville's trust was one of the things that mattered more to him than words could ever hope to express.

"Now, could you, please…"

"Yes, of course." Harry stated, continuing with his narration. "As you understand, that prophecy made it to the ears of Voldemort." How and by whom was not a secret he was not prepared to share, simply because it wasn't his to tell. And his father had suffered enough for it as it was. "At least the first part did, from what I understand; the part that speaks of a child that will be born as the seventh month of the year ended, born of parents that had stood up to him thrice and lived to tell the tale." Neville nodded. "The problem was that the prophecy didn't specify who that child was." He frowned and added; "Clarity is not something prophecies are known for, I can assure you." In the meanwhile, Neville's head spun. The prophecy didn't specify who that child was, Harry had said. As the seventh month died, the prophecy offered. How many times had his parents stood up to the Dark Lord again?

"What do you mean "it didn't specify who the child was"?" Harry sighed tiredly, his shoulders slumped and Neville was struck again with how his friend seemed to carry the weight of the world sometimes.

"There were three candidates, three boys that had been born on the last day of July that satisfied all the criteria. Born first on July the 31st, was you, Nev." The boy blanched but nodded affirmative. He had half expected that. "Second, born around eleven in the afternoon was Adrian. And then, a few seconds before the clock chimed twelve, I was born." A few seconds before the clock chimed twelve, Neville thought. How much closer to the death of July could you get? He shivered; but it had been Adrian that had stopped the Dark Lord, right?

"But it wasn't me the prophecy spoke of." Neville deduced, not daring to venture any further; it was all quite surreal.

"No." Harry offered. "No, you're in the clear." He added smirking ever so slightly, a hand tousling his hair. "So, I fear, despite circumstantial evidence, is Adrian." And Neville wondered why he even bothered gasping in surprise as everything the wizarding world of this country had based its newfound freedom on during the past thirteen years collapsed in one short sentence.

"But Harry… The prophecy said the one meant to… do away with the Dark Lord would be marked as his equal. Adrian's scar…" Harry simply lifted his shirt and pointed at the mark there he hadn't bothered to cover with a glamour this once. Neville could only stare as if thunderstruck.

"As I said; circumstantial evidence, Nev." He sighed, covering his mark once more. "Even if this emblem wasn't visible until I turned seven, the fact is that nobody has bothered to look besides the obvious since. Well, Dad did, but he's just… oh, he's just my Dad, I suppose. He knows this kind of stuff; don't even ask me how."

"Are you referring to professor Severus?" Neville asked, already knowing the answer. "But you just said… James is your father."

"Biologically. At this point, I'm afraid, that's just a technicality." Harry stated simply.

"Merlin, I'm confused!" Harry nodded in understanding; he knew the only way to help was to keep explaining. So he did. He spoke of how Severus and he met, how his parents started paying less and less attention to him over the years, how he was left in the shadows as Adrian trained and how he started spending more and more time with the man he had come to consider his rightful father. And he talked and talked, until he reached that fateful day, a little after his seventh birthday.

"Adrian had just acquired his wand, you see." Harry stated, taking a measured sip of water to calm his rapidly parching throat. "Getting me one too wasn't even considered, so Dad had taken it upon himself to teach me some sort of magic and take my mind off things. He has a habit of doing that." Harry smiled fondly as Neville merely nodded in mild numbness. "So, we were working on a potion, a blood replenishing potion, I think, when an owl decided it would be prudent to fly over the fireplace to deliver a letter. In the process, it managed to throw Dad's complete stash of mandrake root into the boiling cauldron." Neville winced as he imagined the outcome; mandrake root was a very volatile ingredient as was every single part of a mandrake. "As you can imagine, boom." Harry offered chuckling once.

"How much mandrake are you talking about?" Neville asked, thinking of the mess such an accident could make.

"Enough to almost bring down the fireplace and the wall beneath it." The green eyed wizard supplied. "I still remember feeling petrified as the flames drew nearer and thinking how I just wanted them to bloody  _stop_ , when it happened; I threw my hands forward and shielded Dad and myself from the explosion. I figured that, wow, accidental magic rocks, right?" He shook his head. "Wrong; as Dad immediately stated, accidental magic isn't supposed to be so advanced. That still left the question of what the hell was wrong with me. And thinking of that, to Dumbledore we went. Or at least, we meant to go."

"Meant to?"

"We were… detained. The moment we stepped foot in Hogwarts, really." At Neville's confused face, Harry sighed and beckoned him over as he reached carefully for the package Severus had left for him on the desk. Harry had been adamant to tell everything to Neville on his own but Severus, understanding how taxing an experience that would be for both parties, he decided to do the one thing he had been avoiding for three years; go through the stuff Nicholas had left them in his will. It hadn't been much in that vault other than his book collection and a few boxes. But the potions master remembered Nicholas speaking of a pensive he owned, once upon a summer five years back. Pensives were rare and precious artefacts, prized by every single witch or wizard in existence and having one could prove a tremendous aid; as it was, Severus avoided it like the plague.

If Nicholas had passed his pensive down to him and Harry, he had probably done so while leaving the memories he had placed there intact. Severus wasn't certain he would ever be ready to see them and he knew himself well enough to understand he would hardly resist should the pensive be found. But there came a time when Harry needed it so, personal emotional pain be damned, he would search for it. Nicholas, in his wisdom, had indeed placed his prized pensive in one of those crates. The same pensive that now lay, carefully wrapped on the desk in front of Harry. The boy had been loath to use it but… How does one explain meeting Merlin and sounding sane at the same time?

"You know, I was fully prepared to talk about everything for hours and hours," Harry stated, unpacking the pensive and placing it carefully on the desk under Neville's perpetually confused stare "but there are some things you have to see to believe. Or rather, that are too difficult to explain." And he pulled out his wand, pointing it at his head, placing memory after memory in the pensive, the liquefied moments of his life swirling and turning creating a maelstrom of images on the troubled surface. "I didn't want to use that specific pensive; it belonged to someone I cared about and lost. He…" Harry sighed in defeat. "Oh you'll see." And he pointed at the pensive. "Do you know how to use a pensive?"

"In theory." Neville answered softly.

"It's quite easy; and I'll be right there with you." Neville nodded, realising he had done so much of that during the past hour or so. But then again, what else was there? So, both friends took a deep breath and delved into seven years worth of memories. Together, the two brothers walked through Harry's memories of Merlin, the Flamels' -and, oh, how those hurt still!- snippets of the places in the world Severus and Harry had found themselves in, how they had both changed and hid it, Harry's years at Hogwarts, the creation of the Firebolt even and finally of the second prophecy. And Harry talked and explained as he pointed things out at a mostly silent Neville, as he laid his life bare in front of him. It was well past noon when they stepped into the real world again.

"I need to sit down." Was Neville's first and understandable reaction. The world was spinning as Harry led him back to the armchair he had vacated some hours past, his legs almost giving out on him.

"And now you know." The green eyed boy stated softly, waiting for his friend's reaction, whatever that would be. He slowly lifted the concealment charms first placed so many years ago and stared at the floor, his head throbbing and his heart clenching and unclenching painfully. This was it. Neville tried to process what he had just witnessed. Harry was the one that had vanquished the Dark Lord. He was the one that had stopped him from returning time and time again, saving his brother and putting himself in mortal danger in the process. He was the boy -man?- that had trained and trained, preparing for a battle that was now approaching while hiding himself in the shadows, never claiming the fame the world had bestowed on his brother. The same person that fought still with his guilt over the death of two people he had considered grandparents. The one that had made a philosopher's stone at the age of twelve, who had met Merlin and shared common characteristics with him, who had designed the Firebolt, who still hated himself for taking the life of a man who would have killed him and his brother without a second thought. He was the child his parents had pushed away in favour of his brother, pushing and pushing until he felt himself almost detached from his once family. And most of all, Harry was his friend; his friend that had managed to tear away all the walls he had built and let him see just what lay hidden beneath. It wasn't that hard to reach a conclusion after that.

"How can I help?" Harry's head snapped upwards, startled and confused eyes seeking his own. That wasn't what he had expected, Neville realised; Harry had just stood there, waiting to be judged and found wanting, just as he had been by the grand majority of the people he had known all his life. And even if Neville knew Harry was much stronger than he looked -even without the concealment charms- he felt that he was fully prepared to hex and maim whomever tried to hurt him. and though he was older than him only by a few hours, Neville knew that this was what an older brother felt like towards their younger sibling. Because despite all his strength, Harry had been hurt through the years; by the darkest of wizards and by the people that should have been there for him, over and over and in so many ways, Neville just wanted to scream at the injustice of it all. He swore that pain and misery would befall anyone that tried to hurt his little brother in the future; even if he had to train every hour of every day, he would stand by Harry's side. That's what families are for after all.

"What?" Harry asked, scarcely believing what he had heard. "Help?"

"Yes." Neville nodded, feeling more certain about this than he had felt about anything else in his life. "Help. Merlin knows -and he does, doesn't he?- that you have had little help over the years! Professor Snape, brilliant as he is, shouldn't have to do everything on his own either!" Harry was looking at him with an almost scared look in his eyes. "Hey; that's what families are for, right?" And Harry broke. One palm covering his eyes, a chocked sob left his lips, followed by another and then another as the dam broke. Neville, deep down having expected such an outcome, let him compose himself in peace and, once the tears seemed to have lessened, pulled Harry awkwardly closer and patted him on his back, not quite knowing what else to do; being an older sibling was new to him after all.

"I… Nev, I… I don't even know what to say!" Harry exclaimed, squirming away and blushing furiously at how he had broken down like that.

"You can start with; "Sure, Nev! Of course you can help!" and we'll see where we go from there, okay little bro?"

"Yeah, I guess!" Harry's smile was face splitting at Neville's last proclamation; brother. He finally had a brother… Hey, wait a minute!

"Little bro?  _Little_?" The green eyed wizard exclaimed, both teens staring at each other for a few seconds before Neville answered with a blasé;

"Well, I  _am_  older than you after all."

"By seven hours."

"I'm a bit taller still."

"It's not my fault you were hit with a stretching spell over the holidays!" They stared at each other once more, the silence stretching for only a few short moments before they started laughing hysterically at the absurdity of the situation. It was like that Severus found them entering the room with a loud banging sound of the doors.

"I'm sorry, I know I said I'd wait but it's been four hours and…" He looked at the two laughing teens on the floor, whose laughing fit only seemed to intensify at his appearance. The potions master, Neville thought, looked ridiculously young without the spells he had used to alter his appearance and that confused expression on his face. "What did I miss?" Said potions master asked resigned after their laughter had died down a little. And they told him.

Neville remained at Silbreith for one more week. Severus and Harry explained everything the boy hadn't seen in the pensive and Neville took everything in admirably. Severus was almost shocked at how calm the boy was, half expecting him to just bolt screaming bloody murder when the shock wore off. But when Neville explained one night, while Harry had gone to retrieve his new designs for the Seeker's edition of the Firebolt, how he viewed Harry as his brother in all that was important and practically begged him -him, a man he had been terrified of during his first two and a half years in Hogwarts- to train him so that he could help, the last trace of his doubts was gone. There was nothing sinister in Neville's mind -the boy had offered his thoughts to be examined and Severus took him on that offer, not ever wanting to take the smallest chance when Harry's safety was concerned if it could be avoided- just care, brotherly affection and an urge to  _do_  something, to be useful, to help, that Severus started training him along with Harry the very next day.

As for Harry himself, the boy couldn't have been happier. His patchwork family seemed to be coming together; Neville would stand by his side like any brother would and he would get the training needed to survive the war. It was a far cry from the scorn and contempt he had expected but he would never be caught complaining over his misjudgement. This was all he could have hoped for. Just before leaving to return at his grandmother's house on the 30th of July -Augusta had been adamant he spent his birthday at home- he had made both Harry and Severus promise they would have fun on the Potter's expense when the part of the truth they could afford them to know came out. He in turn had promised to practice on his Occlumency and spellwork as well as on the basic sword movements Harry had taught him. Yes, Harry thought; he hadn't even dared to dream things would go better than they had so far.

It was with such pleasant thoughts on his mind that Harry woke up in the morning of the thirty first of July and headed to the shower of his room in Potter manor; the gala Fudge had begged Severus to attend had been held last night and Harry figured returning to the manor a day earlier than planned wouldn't do him any harm with Severus away from Silbreith. Speaking of Severus, the man had for sure made a great effort to not let him into the big secret of the present he would be receiving today -whatever the big secret was- and the teen was exercising every ounce of his patience to not just have Minnie spy on him. He towel dried his hair and left the bathroom, making sure the last concealment charm remaining, the one over his emblem, was in place. House elves wouldn't tell unless specifically asked, but why take the chance? He smirked at his reflection on the mirror and grabbed a pair of jeans from his closet and a simple white shirt which he donned and left unbuttoned. He was alone in the manor after all.

He climbed down the stairs whistling, in search for breakfast and in the highest of spirits; Rosie, the cook house elf of the Potter manor, had made chocolate cake for the occasion and he was determined to get to it before Severus arrived. The potions master was supposed to be there half an hour ago, making Harry wonder what in Merlin's name happened at that gala. With a spring on his step, and still whistling a Weird Sisters' tune, he made it to the ground floor and was about to turn towards the kitchen when his attention was drawn to the living room instead.

" _Surprise_!" Chorused an assortment of voices. It was difficult to say who was more surprised; Harry to see his whole family gathered in the living room hours ahead of time, or his family to see Harry.

"Harry?" Adrian asked looking at his younger brother wide eyed. Their expressions varied from awed to stunned and, even though it happened earlier than planned, Harry decided to take it all with a stride. He smiled brightly and walked to hug his brother; he was now a good head taller and it showed more in such close proximity.

"Goblins' gold! People!" He exclaimed chuckling. "Happy birthday to us!" Harry wished his stunned brother turning to face the rest of his family. He noticed that Ron and Hermione were there too, the later looking flustered and avoiding eye contact at all costs. "You're home early!"

"Harry? Is that you, kiddo?" Sirius asked, looking at his godson sceptically.

"Do you have any other godsons called Harry I should be aware of?" The teen asked casually.

"You look… different." His mother stated confused.

"Mom, don't get this the wrong way, but I'm growing up." The boy stated, hugging Lily tightly. "It happens even to the best of us; just look at Padfoot."

"Hey!" Sirius protested.

"You've grown up." James stated rather blankly, shaking his head as if he could dispel the current image of his son and bring back how he remembered him to be.

"What can you do?" The teen asked rhetorically.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" Ron exclaimed. "Working out much?" He was looking rather cross that Hermione had paid attention and Harry looked down at his unbuttoned shirt as if he had just noticed.

"Yeah, that would be sword fighting and Quidditch." He stated apologetically, buttoning his shirt. "Sorry for that." He smirked cheekily. "I didn't expect you home so soon."

"We figured we could throw you a surprise birthday party." Remus stated. "We just didn't count on who would be more surprised." Harry laughed softly at that and patted the werewolf on the shoulder; Remus was definitely going to be more surprised than anyone else. Harry knew the Wolfsbane potion had yet to be made available in the market, the final testing having been completed just the day before -hence the gala- and as such, the majority of the wizarding world didn't dare believe it was for real until the Ministry made the official announcement. An announcement that should have been published on every single newspaper and magazine this very morning. Harry couldn't remember ever having waited for the morning mail so anxiously.

"We thought you'd be bored, stuck in Spinner's End with Snape all summer." Adrian stated and Harry threw him and amused stare.

"Ah, I should probably set the record straight on that, but first let me ask; whatever made you think that I'm not having fun with Sev?" He asked causing every single person in the living room to startle.

"Sev?" James asked.

"Fun?" Sirius added.

"Yes. Well, you haven't been hanging around a lot during the summer." Harry reminded them shrugging.

"Since when are you calling Snape, Sev?" Ron asked shocked.

"Since I was… five?" Harry pretended to think back. "Just not in school."

"But how can you have fun with…" Sirius question was cut short by the sound of flames and someone stepping in the house through the floo network.

"Sorry I'm late, kid. I got held… up." Severus walked into the living room, taking the sight of the assorted crowd in. Harry simply shrugged and Severus simply decided to go with it. "Goblins' gold! People!" He exclaimed, making Harry chuckle.

"Just what  _I_  said!" Severus rolled his eyes and walked towards the disbelieving stares he was receiving. He was dressed in dark blue jeans, a white button-up shirt, open at the collar and a charcoal grey pinstriped vest; he hadn't shaved, his hair was tussled and he looked altogether far too attractive, toned and healthy to be the Severus Snape they all remembered and some abhorred.

"Happy birthday, Harry!" Severus stated and hugged Harry smiling all the while.

"First one to wish me actually." Harry stated looking at his seemingly frozen family and friends.

"And what were they doing?" The potions master asked smirking.

"I really don't know." Harry admitted.

"Snape?" Sirius asked looking at the stranger in front of him; he had the same voice as Severus Snape, his eyes the same colour and shape as Severus Snape's and he even had the same bloody smirk as Severus Snape but that was about it.

"Do you know many people called Severus Snape?" The potions master asked, causing Harry to break into laughter once more.

"That's more or less what  _I_  said!" The teen exclaimed once again.

"Severus. Is that really you?" Lily asked, her eyes wide, her face flushed.

"Come on Lils, not you too!" The potions master exclaimed, feigning desperation.

"So." Harry stated looking at the potions master carefully, a smirk forming in his face. "Isn't that  _half_  the attire you wore at the gala last night?" The shirt and the vest were definitely the same and Severus's widening gaze confirmed his statement. "Ten galleons you woke up in the wrong bed. Again." Severus narrowed his eyes at the teen; he couldn't even bother to pretend feeling affronted with the faces everyone -especially James and Sirius- was pulling. He just sighed and waved his hand dismissively.

"Be proud of me kid; I asked about abstinence oaths this time." Severus stated looking at the ceiling.

"Asked if the woman was married?" Harry inquired, his eyes narrowing.

"Yes." Severus answered sulkily.

"Then what happened?"

"It went like this." The potions master tried to explain, gesturing with his hands. "I forgot to ask if she was engaged, she forgot her fiancé was returning home today. Woops." Harry's only response was a sigh and an eye roll; he should never allow Severus to go to such events unaccompanied.

"It just keeps happening." The teen muttered.

"Who  _are_  you people?" Sirius exclaimed, looking at the two wizards in front of him terrified.

"Has he gotten worse since the last time I saw him?" Severus asked concerned.

"He  _looks_  the same." Harry observed. "Guess what?"

"What?" Severus asked, completely ignoring the shocked people in the room. He was enjoying himself too much to stop.

"Since it's my birthday, Rosie made…"

"Chocolate cake?" Severus asked smiling wide. He politely ignored the gasp from Hermione who couldn't bring herself to believe that Hogwarts's potion master's face was capable of an expression other than smirking. Harry smiled back.

"You guessed it."

"Whatever are we still waiting here for?" The potions master wondered out loud, walking straight towards the kitchen.

"Hey, I want some of that cake too!" Harry called following him. "It's  _my_  birthday!"

"You shouldn't have told me then!" The voice of one Severus Snape sounded in the halls of Potter manor. The rest of the Potters looked at the youngest member of their family disappear around the corner as they stood unresponsive.

"What just happened?" James asked softly, looking around him lost. There was no answer for a while, until Lily spoke.

"Was that really Severus?" The confused looks continued.

"He looked a little like him." Hermione spoke for the first time. "And Harry has… grown." Lily nodded, turning her gaze towards the corner where the two men in question had disappeared.

"It  _was_  them." Remus assured them, his face completely blank. He was already wondering what in the world had they missed, what could have happened right under their noses. "They just seem… different."

"Different?" Sirius asked sounding deranged. " _Different_ , Remus?" He looked around frantically. "Harry's almost as tall as you and suddenly has the body of an athlete? Sword fighting? When did  _that_  happen?" He stopped as if he was waiting for an answer that never came. "And Snape? He looks…"

"Good. Bloody  _good_." Lily finished his sentence for him. James looked at his wife perturbed. Hermione nodded.

"I was going to say  _happy_." Sirius proclaimed. "He was smiling and he went on and hugged Harry! Since when does Severus Snape go around _hugging_  people?" The fire flared up again and a wide eyed Minerva McGonagall stepped out; her frantic eyes fell immediately to the people gathered in the middle of the room. She walked at them briskly, her glasses sliding a little to the left and clutching what appeared to be a newspaper.

"You already know then!" She stated, waving the newspaper back and forth. "Bless my soul, I almost had a heart attack! Albus is coming too." As if he was expecting to be announced, the Headmaster of Hogwarts stepped out of the fireplace, looking just as surprised as Minerva.

"Have they heard yet?" He asked the transfiguration professor.

"From their looks, I assume they have."

"Heard what?" James asked. "How much Harry and Snape have bloody changed over the summer? We just saw them!"

"You haven't heard." Albus stated softly, sharing an uneasy look with the Transfiguration Professor.

"Haven't heard what?" Lily demanded. "I'm not in the mood for riddles, Albus!"

"You'd better take a look at this." The Headmaster stated, passing them the copy of the day's  _Daily Prophet_.

"The  _Daily Prophet_?" Remus asked. "Why? What ha…" His eyes zeroed on the headlines, the rest of his sentence coming out in the form of a gasp. The more he read, the dizzier he got, until he reached a point were he just had to sit down. Even if one overlooked Harry being the creator of the Firebolt -and how the ruddy hell could one overlook  _that_!- Severus Snape finding the cure for lycanthropy? That was a little too much to take in.

"Is this for real?" An ashen faced James asked the Headmaster who simply nodded; how could he have missed that? He remembered Harry asking him if he could get a summer job, a year back. Was that what he had meant?

"I double checked with my connections in the Ministry and in Grigotts; it's the truth." Dumbledore assured them, rubbing his eyes. That had been quite a surprise. Enter understatement of the century here.

"But how?" Remus asked from the couch, his head still cradled between his hands. His voice sounded broken.

"Severus is the youngest potions master in centuries and Harry had always been above average, we knew that. He's also the brother of the Boy Who Lived." Albus stated, his words sounding hollow in his own ears; when had the last time when he had stopped to really  _look_  at Harry Potter been? More than a decade, he decided ashamed.

"We should ask them." Adrian stated, his eyes never leaving the image of his smiling brother on the front page; why hadn't Harry said anything?

"They're in the kitchen after all." Lily mumbled. Albus and Minerva looked at her confused. "They are." She assured them. Albus nodded and led the way, James and Sirius following up close and the rest trotting after them.

In the mean time, Harry and Severus were in the kitchen, laughing their hearts out. This had gone better than planned, the potions master thought. And it was definitely worth the wait.

"They've grown terribly quiet." Harry observed. They had listened to McGonagall's voice and her proclamation of Dumbledore arriving, so they figured the questioning was about to begin. Harry for one, was ready to enjoy it thoroughly. He had promised Neville to wreck havoc after all.

"It must be the shock." Severus offered, taking a bite from his chocolate cake. "Do you think either Minerva or Albus are subscribers to  _Witch_ _Weekly_?" The potions master asked, making Harry almost choke at the notion.

"No." He stated. "I think we'll have the honour of witnessing their reaction to that first hand." Footsteps sounded in the hallway, signalling the crowd outside had snapped out of their shock enough to start moving.

"Let the games begin." Harry muttered, as the door slammed open.

"Subtle." Severus stated from the corner of the kitchen counter where he sat.

"Severus." A confused Headmaster greeted him. Albus had of course seen the picture that accompanied the article on the  _Daily Prophet_ , but witnessing the changes first hand was a completely different issue. And that would be the first time of many when Albus Dumbledore would start doubting his judgement.

"Albus." The potions master greeted back with a soft smile. The Headmaster gulped and pointed at the newspaper.

"I believe congratulations are in order." He stated. "To both of you." He turned to look at Harry too; the young man was smiling back calmly.

"Thank you, professor." The teen offered.

"When did that happen?" James asked, his eyes locking with his youngest son's emerald gaze. "The  _Firebolt_ , Harry?" The young man in question just shrugged.

"I did ask your permission for a summer job." Harry said lightly. "In the beginning I didn't even know how it would go; then everything with Pettigrew just got in the way and I figured I shouldn't bother you. I simply decided to make it public and the news kind of coincided with Severus's, so… surprise?" He asked chuckling.

"That's all you have to say?" Adrian asked shocked. "Surprise?" Harry kept his carefree air but wouldn't allow being reprimanded for his actions.

"Look, you were always somewhere training and I had to do something with my time. And I happen to be very good at designing. Who knew, right?" The silence that followed his words was almost deafening.  
"And what about the Wolfsbane?" Remus asked, his eyes zeroing on Severus. "And don't you dare shrug that off!" Severus's demeanour turned completely sober as he looked at the werewolf straight in the eyes.

"The Wolfsbane represents nine years of my life. And besides, I saw what you had to go through every month since I was a child, Remus. I would never shrug  _that_  off." The werewolf nodded and smiled. Then he proceeded to do something unexpected, something Harry had never even thought he would witness; he moved forward and hugged the potions master as strongly as he could. Severus smiled and patted him on the back.

"Thank you, Severus."

"Don't mention it." The potions master stated, making the werewolf step back and look at him sternly.

"It's the cure for lycanthropy! Of course I will bloody mention it!" Severus chuckled and shook his head.

"I meant the hug. Never mention it.  _Ever_." The two men looked at each other for a moment, before breaking into laughter.

"This isn't happening." Sirius muttered from his corner. He was observing the whole scene without speaking, his brain slowly processing everything.

"Keep telling that to yourself, mutt." Severus said.

"And there we go again." Harry muttered. Suddenly, he looked at the newspaper and made a startling realization. "Hm."

"Hm?" Severus repeated.

"I just realized, I haven't gotten my copy of the Daily Prophet yet." The teen pointed out.

"Oh, they mail individuals after institutions, so anyone in Hogwarts would receive it first." Severus explained smirking. "Magazines included." Harry just groaned.

"What magazines?" Lily asked, looking at the interaction between her son and her childhood friend with an unreadable expression.

"Just one.  _Witch Weekly_." Harry explained.

"Yes, we gave an interview to Rita Skeeter and…"

"Don't mention that name!" Harry grunted, dropping his head on the table. "She's  _evil_."

"She is." Severus agreed, his gaze going blank for a second. "She's one scary woman." He elaborated, looking at a confused Lily. "I would rather not talk about it." Severus stated and shuddered.

"Why not?" Adrian asked, before he managed to hold his question. He blanched as Severus looked at him. And his jaw hit the floor as the potions master smiled apologetically.

"Because if I talk about it, I'll think about it and I'm in the process of convincing myself it never happened." He explained. A grey owl flew in, dropping the offending piece of written word on the kitchen counter. "Yet the world won't let me." Severus commented.

"May I…" Lily asked, moving to pick up the magazine.

"Knock yourself out." She picked up the magazine and started reading, Albus, Minerva, James and Sirius reading over her shoulder. Adrian, Ron and Hermione just looked at each other stunned and Severus cut Remus some chocolate cake. "I figured you might need that." The werewolf just nodded and smiled.

"You live in a castle?" Sirius asked loudly, startling everyone in the room. Severus blinked once.

"I suppose you mean me?" He asked smirking. "Yes, I do. It's called Silbreith and it's a little further up in the north from Hogwarts." Déjà-vu much? The potions master asked himself.

"You should see the snow up there during Christmas." Harry said absentmindedly. "It's really something."

"And did Harry really help with the Wolfsbane?" James asked.

"He won't admit it, but he helped me through a great part of the process." Severus answered truthfully.

"Well, you tested all the broomsticks I made, even the one where I had forgotten the cushioning charm…" Harry countered, chuckling as the potions master winced at the memory.

"I did get to test drive the Firebolt though." Severus offered and Harry nodded.

"And you competed in a jousting tournament?" Lily asked dumbfounded.

"We won a jousting tournament." Severus clarified.

"And those memory spheres…" Albus asked impressed. "Were they really a joined project?"

"Sev came up with the idea. I just did a bit of designing." Harry explained.

"Yeah, a bit." Severus said sarcastically. "What he means is that he designed the whole thing."

"Speaking of designing." Harry stated smirking. "Rosie!" He called and the small house elf appeared with a loud crack.

"Yes, master Harry?"

"Could you please bring me the parchments from my desk and the broomstick from my bedroom?" The elf bowed deeply and disappeared, making her second entrance a few seconds later with the requested objects. "Thank you, Rosie. Oh, the cake is amazing by the way." The house elf bowed smiling widely and left the room.

"What is that?" Ron asked, looking at the broomstick mesmerised; it looked a lot like the Firebolt, if one excepted some minor details in the shape and colouring.

"You finished it." Severus commented with a proud smile.

"I did." He turned to the whole room, smirking mischievously. "I give you the Firebolt, Seeker's Edition. It can go from nought to one hundred and eighty miles per hour in ten seconds, has improved handling, is lighter and specifically designed for manoeuvring and yes, I made a Seeker's edition because I'm biased and I really wanted one." His speech was followed by a stunned silence.

"I'm test driving that, just so you know." Severus stated, watching Harry twirl the broom in his hands.

"Of course." The teen assured him.

"You designed that?" Adrian asked walking closer to his brother, looking at the broomstick in awe.

"I did." Harry said. "Here." He handed his brother the broomstick. Adrian caught it and then tried to place it on the ground. "No need for that." Harry stopped him. "Just let it drop; it hovers on riding height." Adrian did just that and the broomstick stopped at three feet from the ground.

"Wow!" Sirius breathed.

"Told you so." Harry stated with a smile.

"So you're keeping this one?" James asked, not quite believing the conversation he was having with his youngest son. At the moment all he felt was stunned numbness.

"I always keep the prototype. But I won't be flying that; I'll only use it for the test drive and then probably fly one of the line. They'll be put into production this September." Harry explained.

"Wicked!" Ron stated excitedly.

"I like to think so." Harry chuckled.

"There's one thing missing right now." Severus stated.

"What?"

"Your birthday present." Harry smiled expectantly. Lily just looked at her son in shock.

"Happy birthday, Harry." She wished and hugged her son. "With everything you two dropped on us, I almost forgot what day it was."

"Happy birthday, genius!" Sirius exclaimed, mirroring Lily's example. "I don't know how you did it. But this is amazing." Harry just smiled and looked at Severus as the whole room wished him a -generally confused- happy birthday.

"You said something about a gift?" He asked the potions master.

"Alfie!" Severus called and the small house elf appeared next to him. Harry looked between the two of them confused.

"Is everything ready?" The potions master asked, completely aware that the whole room was focused on what was happening. The elf nodded.

"Yes, master Severus."

"Very well, Alfie. You may return home; I'll call you when we need your help." The elf smiled and bowed.

"What was that? Why was Alfie here?" Harry asked intrigued.

"Your house elf?" Albus asked.

"One of them." Severus answered. "He's in charge of my stables, if you want to be specific." He elaborated before turning his attention to James. "I hope you don't mind me borrowing your stables for a few hours?" James just looked at him unable to form an answer as Harry gasped.

"Sev, what did you get me?" He asked, green eyes open wide.

"Why don't you go and see?" Severus offered, serving himself some tea. Harry smiled and took off running leaving a chuckling potions master in his wake. "I think we should go and meet Harry in the stables; he might spend the day there if we leave him on his own." And he rose to do just that.

"What did you get him?" Lily asked, looking at her old friend intently. "You surely did not get him a  _horse_?" James and Sirius shared a shocked look at the absurdity of it all; who would spend all that money to buy a teenage boy a horse?

"No, of course not." Severus stated, calmly taking another sip from his tea. Lily nodded while Sirius and James sighed in relief. "Why would I buy him  _another_  horse? I got him one for his tenth birthday."

"You  _what_?" James exclaimed, staring at the man he had thought hated his family with a passion.

"Yes, I got him Ares four years ago to the day." The three teenagers in the room shared a stunned look with their transfiguration teacher. "No, this time I got him something a  _little_  different." And he started walking calmly out of the room; once he realised nobody was following him, he smirked and turned to look at them over his shoulder. "You can come see, if you want." And he left the room, smiling brightly all the way.

 


	46. The Day I Never Thought Would Come

Harry was racing towards the stables; it was one of the few parts of the Potter manor that was completely vacant -at least it  _normally_  was- seeing as James had never showed any aptitude towards horsemanship. Neither had his grandfather and Harry was certain that the trait had skipped a few generations; having stables in the house meant that somebody, at some point in time, liked to keep horses in the Potter family.

Harry was used to empty rooms; growing up in Silbreith and then going to school at Hogwarts tended to change your opinion on what a large indoor area was supposed to look like and how rooms could exist for no obvious reason. Still, he tended to steer clear from the stables of the manor, hating the feeling of abandonment they emanated. But this time was different and Harry pushed the doors open with one strong movement; he entered the room, looked around and… froze.

It was extremely hard to  _not_  notice Severus's gift; it was standing right there, patiently waiting for the shocked teenager to come closer. Harry felt moisture gathering in his eyes as he stepped closer; liquid pools of silver for eyes, without an iris, stared back into his emerald ones and ebony hair glistened on a six feet ten frame. Two pure silver horns stood proud on the creature's head, the lower one much smaller than the upper one. The war unicorn stepped closer as Harry extended his hand and touched the velvety soft muzzle. A strange warmth run down his spine and into the unicorn that shivered; it felt like the first time he had held his wand all over again.

A soft light on the horses rear left leg caught Harry's attention and he watched in awe as his emblem appeared, glowing silver on the dark hair. The unicorn placed its head softly over Harry's shoulder as the teen acted instinctively and started petting its long neck. A wide smile appeared on his face as he held onto the creature; Severus was going to get a huge hug for this. And a hell of a present for his birthday.

Speaking of Severus, there was a parchment hovering next to the war unicorn, clearly suspended mid air with the aid of magic. Harry reluctantly unwounded his hands from around the creatures neck and petted him on the nuzzle smiling.

"I have to read this." He said softly and the unicorn nodded, its mane moving fluidly, as if it understood. Harry's smiled widened; it most probably did. It was a note from Severus, just as Harry expected. The teen wiped a tear from his face and started reading;

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy birthday! It took me sometime to find one, but I did. I had promised you I would, had I not? They were in the Arabic peninsula after all, we were right on that account. The war-unicorn you see in front of you approached me the moment I arrived along with his brother. His brother, Kadar, is now my familiar. But this one just wouldn't move; the breeders told me that these unicorns can feel the calling of their masters. And since his master isn't me, he must have sensed I was the one meant to deliver him to you. His name is Ghaith. Just remember to cast a spell over the mark; I know it'll be there. You deserve him after all. Love,_

_Dad_

Harry turned back to look at the unicorn, wiping the tears from his face. The unicorn was nuzzling his neck gently, having realised that something was distressing his master. Harry smiled at the creature and stroke its neck.

"You're Ghaith." It wasn't a question; he just wanted to call the unicorn by his name; Ghaith nodded. "I'm Harry. And I know you probably won't like it -I don't either- but I'll have to hide that emblem for now; just for a little while." He pulled out his wand. "Will you allow me?" With another wave of his head, the unicorn turned his body in such a way Harry could easily understand his approval. Harry smiled and patted him affectionately. "You have no idea what you got yourself into, boy." He informed the unicorn and cast the spell; Ghaith neighed and Harry almost felt that he actually knew. He never managed to ask anything further as the sound of approaching footsteps and people talking distracted him. It seemed as if the second round of inquiries was approaching, quite determinedly from what he could tell of the sound closing in. He just smiled at Ghaith affectionately and patted him on the neck. "Here we go, boy."

Severus was the first one to walk in the stables, his smile matching Harry's and looking as relaxed as he would if he was in his own home. He was the perfect image of a man completely content and frankly not giving a knut for what the rest of the world -or the people following him- thought. Harry borrowed a leaf from his book and ignored them too, making a straight line for the potions master and enveloping him in a hug.

"I guess you liked your present." Severus stated lightly, returning the hug.

"I loved it, Sev! Was there ever a chance I would not?" The teen asked, pulling back a little, humid green eyes meeting sparkling dark ones. "Thank you." He said and hugged Severus again.

"Don't mention it, Harry. Happy birthday." The potions master repeated.

"Is this a war unicorn?" Dumbledore asked his voice tight, stepping forward from where the rest of the group was frozen by the entrance.

"His name is Ghaith." Harry answered. "I can't believe you went and found one!" Severus cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

"I found two." He corrected the teen. "Alfie will bring Kadar later on so that we can take them for a ride. And guess what else I found out." Harry started at the potions master with interest. "They are admissible in jousting tournaments. Imagine competing with a war unicorn?"

"I believe they call it annihilation." Harry offered smirking.

"They do." Severus agreed.

"But war unicorns cost a fortune!" Lily protested. "Harry surely can't accept…"

"Nonsense." Severus waved her objections off. "The cost was nothing really and of course Harry will accept the gift. I insist." James tried to speak but the potions master threw him a withering glance, stopping him in his tracks.

"These are rare creatures, Severus." Albus stated. "They haven't been seen in Europe for centuries." Severus shrugged.

"I pulled a few strings." He looked at the Headmaster smiling. "Besides, Harry has wanted one since he was seven. It was only natural I would get him one when I found them."

"You're a genius you know." Harry, who had approached Ghaith once more and was stroking him carefully stated.

"I know." Severus stated cheerfully. Sirius's jaw was hitting the ground, Remus was just going along with everything at that point, being too happy for words, James was staring at Ghaith along with the three teenagers while Minerva and Albus shared a confused look.

"So what Harry wants, Harry gets?" The Headmaster asked concerned.

"Yes, mostly because Harry tends to want very little for himself." Severus deadpanned. "And what he asks for, he more than deserves." The silence was almost complete after that.

"You're making me blush, Sev." Harry mock stated, looking from his place next to Ghaith. The unicorn looked completely relaxed, his head bowed slightly as Harry combed an imaginary knot out of his long mane.

"There are some velas who would find it endearing." Severus stated smirking.

"Velas?" Ron asked, his eyes zeroing on Harry who just shook his head resigned.

"If that wasn't the pot calling the kettle black then I don't know what was." The green eyed wizard stated. All eyes left him and turned to Severus.

"Bite marks, Harry." Severus threw back and the collective glance followed the conversation.

"Claw marks, Sev." Harry responded.

"Touché, kid." The potions master admitted, pretending to ignore the startled stares around them.

"Velas?" Sirius whined, staring at Severus.

"Bite marks?  _Claw_   _marks_ …" Lily whispered the last part, causing Severus to glance at her confused. He didn't comment on her reaction, not only because he was trying his best to avoid an awkward moment, but because Lily had spoken so low only Remus should have heard it. It took Severus another half an hour to convince Harry that Ghaith would survive on his own for a while -even Ghaith had to intervene and push him out of the stables- all the time answering various questions that were thrown at him.

The third round of questioning -albeit much more Harry centred- took place around two, when the rest of the Weasleys visited, minus Ginny and Charlie, who were in Romania still, and Bill who would be arriving from Egypt in a couple of days, having decided to take some extra days off to visit his family before the Quidditch World Cup. The Weasleys and the Potters along with Remus, Sirius and Hermione had tickets for the finals, having decided it didn't matter what teams would compete; who knew when the Cup would be held that close to home next?

"You said it!" George exclaimed, looking at Harry as if he was his hero.

"I said what?" Harry asked confused.

"A career in Quidditch! A wild card!" They exclaimed in one voice as Harry vaguely recalled a conversation held two years ago when the Weasley twins had admitted how they dreamed of starting their own business. He smirked.

"I guess I did."

"Wicked!"

"I'm not playing for a team though. Not professionally at least." Harry reminded them.

"Not yet; I don't know what to expect any more." Sirius muttered.

"Professor Black's right." Fred decided. He stole a glance towards Severus as if he was proof enough that the world had turned upside down.

"Please call me Sirius. I'm not your professor any more."

"Do call him Sirius." Severus interjected, looking at them from behind his newspaper; he was completely disregarding the front page and the article about him and Harry and was focused on a piece regarding the Quidditch Cup instead. "The rest of us call him less kind names." The teens laughed at the joke before realising it was Severus who made it; the twins shared a look of utter shock with Percy who had just entered the living room where they were seated while Mrs. Weasley and Lily paused their hushed conversation to openly stare at him.

"Snape, if you say another word I'll…"

"Growl?" The potions master asked innocently causing even Ron to chuckle once before almost chocking with his own breath in shock.

"Severus!" Lily exclaimed amused.

"Oh come on, Lils!" Severus complained. "It was far too great an opportunity to let it pass."

"And Merlin knows you don't let anything go." Harry commented. "Sirius, don't provoke him. Last time someone did, it didn't turn out too well." The confused gazes around him prompted him to continue. "Remember that potion I used on Lockhart on our second year? His recipe." The twins turned to Severus -who just chuckled- reverently.

"He was being an obnoxious git and, apparently, I hadn't hexed him hard enough during our duel."

"So it  _was_  on purpose!" George exclaimed.

"Why do you think I actually accepted to help him? Another opportunity far too good to pass."

"Wicked!" The twins murmured.

"Wicked? Un-bloody-believable, that's what it is!" James told Sirius. The general reaction was a numb nod. Severus smirked behind his newspaper, fully aware this was likely to continue during the next school year. That, combined with finally teaching the way he had always wanted to, would make the next months more than pleasant.

Lunch was an interesting affair as Severus was being talkative -for some disturbingly so- Harry was narrating how they had won the jousting tournament -leaving all details of Fleur and Amelie out figuring there was neither need to brag about something of the sort nor was it elegant to do so- and the rest were going through the meal barely eating as if in a daze.

"So you're really good with the sword then?" Ron asked Harry after he completed the story of his first few battles.

"Pretty good, I'd say." He seemed to consider it for a while before exclaiming; "You know, Sev and I would train anyway this afternoon after taking Ghaith and Kadar for a ride; maybe you would like to watch?"

"It's fine by me." Severus assured them. So it was settled and two hours later, leaving the two unicorns in the capable hands of Alfie with the promise to return after their practice, they went to change for their duel. There were two much more medieval looking wizards that appeared at the back yard of the manor to the great surprise of their spectators.

"You have armour?" James asked his son, pointing at the plates covering his shoulders, the right part of his upper chest and his right arm.

"That's only a part of it." Harry stated. "We do train with the complete armour and chainmail on too but we decided on speed today."

"But the swords are magically blunted and we will carry a shield." Severus assured a slightly perturbed Lily.

"If the swords are blunted, why wear armour at all?" Mr. Weasley asked, his eyes alight with curiosity.

"Blunt iron may not cut you but it can still break your bones." Harry piped with a smile, causing a gasp from Hermione and his mother to share a disturbed look with Mrs. Weasley.

"We'll be fine, really." Severus assured them and attacked Harry who grabbed his shield and blocked the strike. They slashed and parried for sometime before the shields were completely discarded, the swords were handled with both hands and the strikes became more vicious. It was right after an impressive vertical slash from Harry and an equally impressive dodge from Severus that Minnie made her sudden appearance followed by none other than Nagnok. The two wizards stopped their practice and turned to look at the newcomers.

"Why did you stop?" Adrian asked completely stunned from what he was seeing.

"Bloody hell! You're good!" James muttered.

"Is that a goblin?" Remus asked looking at the two approaching forms.

"That's Nagnok, our financial advisor." Harry explained panting, looking at the goblin perplexed. "Who has already wished me happy birthday so…"

"Didn't you ask him to proofread that contract?" Severus asked, regulating his breathing. Harry's eyes widened. The new Firebolt! How could he forget that?

"And an assessment of possible investment opportunities." Harry stated, seathing his sword. "Can't believe I forgot."

"You have a goblin for a financial advisor?" James asked his son in mild awe.

"You can't get much better than that." Harry deadpanned and approached Nagnok, greeting him in Gobbledegook and thanking Minnie for bringing him. The goblin greeted back and extended the courtesy to Severus before engaging in a conversation with Harry. Severus listened carefully not noticing the silence aside of the conversation in front of him until after it was broken by Lily.

"Harry speaks Gobbledegook?" She asked unnerved.

"Fluently." Severus assured her. "I started teaching him when he was eight." Lily seemed rather more flustered than relieved by his explanation and was ready to ask more when Harry interrupted her, addressing Severus.

"I have to give Nagnok the blueprints and he wants to walk me through the investment plan he brought along." The teen sent a longing glance towards the stables and Severus chuckled.

"I'll go take care of Ghaith for you; you can go see him when you're done." Harry nodded gratefully and walked Nagnok back to the manor, his family following him, curious to see what was happening. Not that they would understand anything, Severus thought smirking, as Harry tended to speak only in Gobbledegook when a goblin was around in sake of practice and, mostly, good manners; if anything impressed goblins was wizards knowing and respecting their race's protocol.

With a wave of his wand, Severus levitated the discarded shields and swords casting a spell so they would follow him to the stables. Amusing himself with recalling the events of the past day and chuckling softly, he missed a certain redhead that had decided to turn around mid way and follow him instead of her son.

He entered the stables and gently placed the weaponry on the floor. A melodic neighing that could only be produced from a unicorn made Severus smile as Kadar claimed his attention. He winked at the black stallion and started shedding his armour, placing it neatly on the floor so Alfie would have an easier job collecting it. Once the last piece of it -his gauntlet- was placed on the floor, he took a moment to examine his state of clothing; the linen grey-blue shirt he had opted to wear was pretty much drenched in sweat. And wearing that armour, had made him feel impossibly hot during a decisively warm summer afternoon. He turned to his war unicorn smiling.

"I won't tell Minnie if you don't." And he took of his shirt, not taking notice of the widening pair of green eyes that were watching him. He threw the garment on a wooden rail and cast a spell to throw some warm water on it from his wand before drying it and then turning his wand on his person to do the same. But the moment the hot water cascaded on his frame, a soft gasp prevented him from casting the second spell, his instincts dictating he should turn and face the possible threat. And he did just that, pointing his wand to a blushing… "Lily?"

"Uhm... Hi." The redhead muttered softly as Severus looked at her blinking once, twice, before lowering his wand chuckling.

"By goblins' gold, Lily!" He exclaimed teasingly, placing his wand back in its holster. "I almost hexed you! How did you manage to sneak up on me?" How indeed, he wondered, thinking it probably happened while he was removing his armor, the cluttering so close to his ears cloaking any softer sounds. And Lily had always been light on her feet. His next thought was of a different subject altogether. His eyes fell on his shirt that still lay discarded, leading him to remember that he was in fact shirtless. And dripping wet. He fought his blush and turned his eyes back to Lily trying to explain what had happened only to find her walking slowly towards him, her footsteps soft on the wooden floor. Oh  _now_  I can hear her, Severus berated himself.

"Severus." She said, stopping a few feet from him, her eyes straying from his darker ones to the toned chest beneath and staying there for a few moments before returning to his face. A wide assortment of alarm bells started ringing and chiming in his head as he watched her blush harder. "You went and changed on me." She accused him with a smile and he once again thought -for the first time in some few years- of how beautiful she looked when she was being shy. But instead of the burning longing such a look would have spurred in him in the past, this time it was only a realization; Lily looked beautiful when she smiled and he was happy she did because he considered her a friend still. That was it.

"I didn't change." He stated, smiling back. "I just decided it was time I started being me." That seemed to throw her off momentarily.

"So the moody, sulking and occasionally acerbic man was an act?" She asked teasingly.

"First of all, I don't sulk." He said, assuming a superior air, his eyes gleaming as he remembered countless conversations like this one from when he was a child. "As I've told Harry a thousand times, I  _brood_. Occasionally. And I fear I'm quite acerbic still, at least humor wise. But moody?" He raised and eyebrow questioningly, making her laugh. "Woman, I was never  _moody_! I will admit to being a little temperamental but that's it."

"Temperamental?" She asked smiling wide.

"Why yes. And you'd be surprised at how much good slashing the living daylights out of a practice dummy with a longsword does to ones temperament." Severus assured her.

"You  _have_  changed." She insisted, looking at him appreciatively once more. He shrugged, trying to ignore her gaze.

"Just on the outside. For any internal developments and realizations I might've made, you can thank Harry." He stated softly watching her smile turn sad.

"Harry." She whispered. "That was another surprise; he has grown a lot, has he not?"

"He has." Severus agreed, wondering once more how could they have fooled everyone for so long; to him it had been so painfully obvious how Harry had matured over the years and, even if he was the only one who knew why, was it truly possible that no one else had seen it? Had somebody taken the time to look closely, there was no chance they would have missed it. It was just  _there_ , the toll of time his age shouldn't have allowed yet.

"When I laid eyes on him today, it just hit me." She admitted, looking at her hands. "He's all grown up and somehow I missed it." She turned her green gaze, her eyes the hue of jade, back at Severus's dark orbs. "But you didn't. I finally realized what was always so different about him you know."

"What?" Severus asked softly, realizing Lily hadn't spoken to him for such a long period of time since before their fight and, even back then, they had never discussed something of that magnitude.

"You." She mouthed, pointing at him, her index finger slightly touching his abdomen before she retracted it from the hard muscle there as if she had been burned. "I would get glimpses of it sometimes as he grew up; a smirk here, a knowing glance there, his quiet demeanor and I would always think how he's more like me and not as extroverted as James or Adrian. When he chose to stay in his room to study, I thought it was I who had affected him. But now I see it wasn't me at all; it was you." She stopped and chuckled once. "Merlin, he even  _looks_  like you! High cheek bones, black hair and all!" There was a hint of desperation in her voice that he tried to ignore.

"So I have been told." Severus admitted.

"What?"

"That we look alike; we are often mistaken for father and son." He explained; he knew he probably shouldn't have said that at the moment but it was the closest he could get to proclaiming Harry as his son openly. He couldn't deny himself that anymore.

"Father and son…" Lily muttered smiling sadly. "You really do care about him, don't you?" Severus shook his head smiling.

"Care?" He asked chuckling. "Harry is brilliant; absolutely brilliant!" Severus said. "He's kind, mature, imaginative and calling him smart would be a dire understatement. He's absorbing knowledge like a sponge and still thirsts for more and yes, maybe I influenced him a little too and if I did, it's the single most important thing I've done in my life. Raising him has been a privilege, Lily, and I have never been more proud than anything I've ever achieved. He grew up great, don't you think?" He stopped and chuckled once. "He can design race broomsticks and he can remember every single detail, every information he has ever been taught, in the blink of an eye. And that's something that truly baffles me as he's the same person that forgets to eat when he's absorbed by said studies. So do I  _care_  about him?" He looked straight at her eyes to find them moist. "Lily, I love him as if he was my own. I feel like he is. Never doubt that."

And then she threw herself in his arms, holding him tightly, her head hidden in his chest. Severus eventually held her close, his hands tracing soothing circles on her back trying to reconcile himself with what was happening. He had spent years in his youth imagining and longing for such a scene but know all he felt was uncomfortable; this was a too much too soon sensation for him. And yes, he realized Lily was probably feeling thankful that someone had looked after Harry as he grew up -and that was too little too late, the potions master thought bitterly- but it had been years since they had spoken more than what consisted a polite greeting. He had no idea how long they staid like that before she asked;

"Do you ever think about it?"

"About what?" He lowered his head to look into her eyes. A few teardrops that had fallen were now dry as she blushed and elaborated.

"About what could have been if…?" His eyes widened in shock as he took a step back; he had feared she would think something along these lines but had never expected she would outright  _ask_. It was the day of surprises it seemed.

"What about 'what could have been', Lily?" Severus asked softly. "Last time we talked - _really_  talked- you were screaming at me -for good reason, I might add- and I was trying my damnest to apologize. That was eighteen years ago. Up to this morning I wasn't even sure you remembered me anymore." He had added the last part intending it to be a joke, but she didn't receive it that way it seemed.

"You thought I had forgotten you? Severus, I could never forget! I was hurt and…"

"Lily." Severus stopped her explanations. "I had a lot of time to think about it, trust me, and I would like to ask you something, if you don't mind." She simply nodded once. "The day I called you a… a mudblood," he spat the last part, the sting of his mistake that day not completely forgotten "I made a grave error, I admit it. But I apologized; Merlin knows how many times I apologized, only to have you dismiss me each and every time. But James? The same man you had claimed to detest for being a bully and change hallways when you crossed paths at school? You forgave him everything, just like that. I was your friend of what, eight years? Nine? I'm not blaming you for picking him over me, I'm just wondering; why didn't you just consider listening? Consider forgiving me?"

"I… Severus, I don't know what to say." Lily admitted, her voice thick and close to crying once more. "I was only sixteen and I had a crush; I wasn't thinking straight and James hated you back then. I think that was a time when I wouldn't have denied him anything." Severus chuckled mirthlessly and nodded.

"I had guessed as much." He assured her with a smile. "I just needed to hear it." And there it was, he thought, his mind finally free of that last burden. Closure.

"But you never answered." She insisted. "Have you ever thought about what could have been?"

"Honestly, Lily?" Severus asked back. "For a time back then there was nothing else I could think about. And when I had first met Harry I used to wish with all I had that he and you could be mine."

"And now?" She asked, placing a hand over his heart. He closed his eyes, trying to digest what she was proposing; he knew she and James weren't doing so well lately but for her to ask was, once again, unexpected.

"I moved on, Lily. I grew up. I will always care for you, you know that." He assured her, cupping her face. "But you're married and I'm  _happy_  with my life as it is. I can't be with you like that. And I don't think you really want to; you love James. I know you do." And it was easy to admit it now.

"I grew up too, Severus." Lily stated shaking her head. "Maybe James and I…"

"Lily, don't go there, please." He spoke calmly. "James and you have a family together."

"And Harry loves you." She insisted.

"And Adrian?" He asked as she bowed her head. "He needs you, Lily. And you wouldn't be happy without James, even if it doesn't look that way right now." If someone had told him a decade ago he would be having this conversation one day he would have them transported to St. Mungo's psychiatric ward at once. Yet here he was and here she was and this was real.

"How can you be sure?" She insisted, her hold on him tightening.

"How can  _you_?" He deadpanned. "Lily, we can't be together. But I would like us to try and be friends again. Do you think we could give that a try?" Lily studied his expression for a few seconds before smiling a sad little smile; Severus could see it in her eyes. Whatever it was that had urged her to speak like that wasn't gone yet. But she had decided to compromise for the time being, knowing she couldn't change his mind. And how the wheels of fortune turn, Severus wondered as she nodded.

"We could do that, at least." She agreed. Severus smiled and let her go, grabbing his shirt and putting it back on, drying his still wet body with a quick spell. He stroke Kadar's neck and assured Ghaith that Harry would be paying him a visit soon as Lily observed him.

"Maybe we should return." He stated, his eyes falling on the setting sun. "Harry will be wondering where we are. And will be probably dying to come and see Ghaith."

"Thank you for giving him Ghaith." Lily said, her eyes straying to the magnificent stallion. "I didn't even know he liked horses, let alone war-unicorns."

"Harry is full of surprises, Lily." Severus stated cryptically, knowing that the time for the greatest surprise hadn't arrived yet. "More so than any other wizard I know."

"I can think of one exception." Lily offered, looking at him.

"Nah. Surely, not  _me_. I'm quite boring once you get to know me." He proclaimed, assuming a clearly fake modest demeanor.

"I seriously doubt that." Lily answered, her eyes lightening. "So friends, huh?" She asked after some brief contemplation.

"Yes." The potions master assured her.

"In that case…" She pulled out her wand and pointed it at Severus. "It  _is_  summer." Severus's eyes widened as he recalled memories buried long ago, of water fights in the summertime by the lake near Lily's house.

"No, Lily…" But he didn't manage to word anything more as he found himself once again drenched from top to bottom. He looked at her neutrally, combing back his now wet hair with his fingers while she giggled. "You're going to pay for that." He stated and pulled out his wand fluidly, casting the same spell she had on her. They ended up running all the way to the manor, Severus entering the living room first, dripping all over the floor.

"What happened to you?" Harry asked chuckling, being the only one able to react to the strange sight that greeted them. Severus noticed that Nagnok was gone but Albus -who had left to tend some urgent matters back at school earlier- had returned and was presently sipping on some tea.

"Your mother snapped." Severus stated, walking forward. "She declared war and suddenly we're fourteen again. Incorrigible, that's what she is." James tried to speak as Adrian, Hermione and the complete Weasley family tried to decipher his last statement when Lily walked in, looking just as drenched as Severus. Harry simply broke down laughing, while James moutherd a startled;

"Lily?"

"Severus forgets that he's just as bad as me." She said calmly as she smiled to the unrepentant potions master.

"I never said I wasn't." Severus stated. "But I didn't start it. This time."

"Says the man who threw my little sister in the lake." Lily deadpanned while Harry tried -unsuccessfully- to breathe and the rest just stared on confused.

"You threw Aunt Petunia in a lake, professor?" Adrian asked, a confused smile beginning to show on his face.

"She tried to kiss me; I panicked." He stated as he glared daggers at a laughing Harry. "And it worked; she never bothered me again."

"And what about throwing Vernon in too?" Lily prompted. Severus simply shrugged as Adrian, Remus and shockingly Sirius joined Harry in laughing their hearts out.

"Uncle Vernon too?" Harry asked between deep breaths. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was afraid you'd choke from laughing too hard; was I wrong?" He asked as he turned to Lily. "And you know I have poor impulse control. Besides, have you  _met_  Vernon?" Lily shook her head smiling while Harry nodded in understanding.

"A fine point." He said as Severus dried himself and Lily with a quick spell.

"Everything alright with Nagnok? Has he come up with new ways of torture yet?" Severus asked, avoiding James's eyes altogether. The man needed to know he was pushing Lily away; Severus decided that, though he might not be in love with her anymore, he did care a great deal and he considered jarring James's cage a little might show him what he was doing. Then again, would that send Lily the wrong message? What a mess.

"Well, there was that underwear photo shoot he talked about…" Harry said flippantly, making Severus pale and a few jaws to drop.

"The  _what_?" The potions master asked, his voice a little higher than usual.

"Merlin, your reaction!" Harry said laughing. "Relax, Sev; I was merely joking." After a second round of glaring daggers and a mouthed;

"Not funny." Severus noticed Harry was holding a yellowish envelope with his name on it. He smiled. "But he did give you that for me."

"Yes, he did." Harry admitted handing him said envelope. "Do I get to find out what's in it, or is it a government secret straight from the Department of Mysteries?" Harry asked cocking an eyebrow.

"As a matter of fact, you do get to find out." Severus stated. "Since it's your, let's say, secondary present?"

"Another present?" Harry asked smirking, hearing his brother mutter confused behind him.

"No, Severus, that's too much!" Lily stated.

"You don't even know what it is." The potions master threw back with a wink as he opened the envelope to reveal.

"Are these passes to the Quidditch World Cup?" Sirius squeaked from the couch he was seated on as his wide gaze zeroed in the golden tickets in Severus's hand; the potions master handed one to Harry who grinned as he nodded.

"What do they look like?"

"Like passes to the Quidditch World Cup." Remus piped, smirking at Sirius.

"Sev, you're amazing!" Harry exclaimed and hugged him as Severus messed his hair affectionately.

"Don't I know it?"

"How did you get these?" James asked, looking at the ticket in his son's hand; Harry's name was printed clearly on the pass with a flourish. "There where only forty printed!" The Potter patriarch continued. Severus smirked; these passes were saved for the most honored guests and them alone, and ensured free entrance to any of the games played during the tournament. Everybody wanted one but only a few were printed each time.

"Well, there would be thirty nine technically." He turned at Harry. "Fudge said he wanted to send you one from the get go, you being the creator of the broomstick every team is using, but couldn't print passes for your whole family. Once I said that I was going to accompany you, he almost hugged me." He made a show of shuddering at the thought as the twins laughed. "He would do anything for some publicity, that man."

"And how come  _you_  get one too?" Sirius asked, practically drooling at the tickets.

"I  _did_  discover the cure for lycanthropy, thank you very much." The potions master stated and shrugged. "And I own major stock in a couple of Quidditch teams around the world, so…"

"You  _what_?" James, Sirius and Ron -who immediately turned bright red and then deathly pale at his dare- exclaimed in one voice.

"Good to know your lungs work, gentlemen." Severus commented drily after wincing at the cacophony.

"Severus owns part of the Hollyhead Harpies, the Heidelberg Harriers…"

"Hoping for another seven days long match…" Severus offered, citing the world famous week long game between the two teams.

"… and the Vratsa Vultures." Harry concluded.

"The Vratsa Vultures?" Adrian asked dumbfounded.

"Victor Kram's team?" Ron muttered next to him, his face feverish.

"The one and only." Severus stated, ignoring the slack jawed adults and smiling slightly at Remus who was chuckling in the corner.

"You have been busy, Severus." Albus offered looking at his school potions master carefully.

"I'm always busy." He turned to Lily with a small smile. "You will trust me with Harry for the matches, right?" Lily answered his question with her own bright-as-the-sun smile.

"I think I can." Harry laughed once triumphantly. "As long as he finishes his schoolwork in time…"

"I have already finished my schoolwork." Harry clarified as Severus chuckled.

"Come on, Lils!" He exclaimed, cocking one eyebrow. "I'm a professor at Hogwarts, remember?" She smiled as Dumbledore coughed slightly to get everyone's attention.

"Speaking of Harry's schoolwork, Professor Vector approached me today. I believe you can guess why, Harry." The boy smiled bashfully and nodded. He had expected this would happen at some point.

"Isn't Professor Vector your Arithmancy teacher, Harry?"James asked. "Is there something wrong?" Harry smiled widely.

"Nothing is wrong, James." Albus assured him. "Just another pleasant surprise." Severus smiled at Harry who winked back.

"Last March, Professor Vector asked me if I wanted to take her Advanced Atithmancy Studies class in my fourth year. I accepted but I'll have to pass a test come September to actually get in." Harry explained.

"But that class is for fifth year students and above." Hermione muttered weakly and then blushed when Harry smiled at her.

"Professor Vector said as much." He agreed. "But she thinks I'm getting bored in her class. And I am, a little; you'd be surprised at how much Arithmancy helps in broomstick designing." And that wasn't even a lie. Dumbledore nodded, his mustache trembling with a hidden smile.

"So what will that mean, taking an advanced class this early?" Lily asked.

"I'll take my OWL in Arithmancy this year and my NEWT on my sixth year. Quite simple actually." Harry stated with a mischievous smirk as he turned to ask Severus something about the first match of the Cup; it was not to be.

"Simple?" Adrian asked. "You'll be taking an OWL exam a year early and you call it  _simple_?"

"It's not like it's unheard of!" Harry protested. "Professor Dumbledore did the same with his Ancient Runes exam, didn't you professor?" Albus nodded.

"I did." He agreed.

"Oh!" The green eyed boy exclaimed, remembering something. "Since you're here professor, and if you don't mind, could you inform professor McGonagall that I'll be taking Ancient Studies this year too?" Harry asked. "I can always send a letter but…"

"No, it's okay, my boy." The Headmaster stated, patting Harry on the shoulder. "I'll inform her myself; I dare say she'll be delighted. Not many Gryffindors select that class."

"It's just one hour a week, Mom." Harry explained before his mother could object.

"And Harry will tell you all about it, I'm sure." Albus stated, rising from his chair. "Now, if you don't mind, may I borrow Severus for a second?" The potions master nodded as he and Harry tried to stifle a slight pang of fear. "There are some school related issues we'd better talk about; I have already informed the rest of the staff." An inward sigh of relief later, Severus rose from his chair too and followed Albus out, conveying to Harry -who was explaining what Ancient Studies were- that he would tell him everything later.

  
  



	47. Tournament? What Tournament?

"He said  _what_?" Harry exclaimed as he sat next to Severus; they were at the first game of the World Cup, England versus Transylvania, when Severus had made his startling announcement. The potions master smirked at the teenager's reaction and motioned him to keep quiet. This was the first time they got to themselves since Harry's birthday a week ago. Where they had been left to their own devices in the past, now everybody wanted to know what they were doing, how they passed their free time even. James in particular seemed to have developed a fervor to spend some quality time with both his sons taking a newfound dislike to Severus, now even worse in kind as he had no rational reasons to base it on; Harry, who felt almost insulted at the hypocrisy of it all, managed to find an excuse to slither himself out of such engagements.

His mother had been asking him of how things were living with Severus -Harry still had to withhold all information of his excess training and their not very legal travels around the world- while Sirius and Remus had managed to surprise him the most once again. After the initial shock had faded; they were positively bashful around the teen. They were silent around him, smiling proudly here and then but seemed to have reached the conclusion that they had no right to intervene in a life they hadn't truly helped form.

"Could you keep your voice down a little?" Severus asked mock punching him on the shoulder. "I'm not even supposed to be telling you this."

"The  _Triwzard_   _Tournament_?" Harry whispered, his eyes glistening. "It hasn't been held for over three centuries!"

"It's about to be reinstated." Severus offered as he prepared the memory sphere they had brought along to record the game; he was certain that England was going to be slaughtered -the team was playing worse than ever- but he wasn't going to pass an opportunity to use the memory sphere. They had been put into mass production two days ago and all signs foretold they were going to be used in great numbers during the World Cup.

"Really?" Harry asked, leaning back into his seat and closing his eyes; his mind was going on overdrive. He had read stories of the World Cup when he was younger in Severus's library; the challenges were described as tales of bravery and the few Champions were immortalized; sonnets were written to praise their bravery and magical prowess and their stories became legends.

"Really." Severus offered, examining his posture closely. He had a feeling he knew where all this was headed. And he wasn't certain if he ought to stop any such thoughts from occurring or simply support his decision. "Well, due to the high death toll, Albus said that some sort of precaution was to be taken, but he was quite unclear on the subject." He stopped and nudged Harry slightly. "You're thinking of participating, aren't you?"

"I know it will be dangerous. And honestly, I'll have to think about it a little. Or a lot. But I must admit I'm tempted." Severus nodded.

"You should take your time, think this through." The potions master said. The teams' mascots entered the stadium amidst loud applause. "That's why I opted to tell you this soon." Harry smiled thankfully. "Now, try to enjoy the game; not that it's going to be that much enjoyable, in my opinion…"

"Are you referring to the fact that England's been playing worse than trolls mounting Cleansweeps lately?" Harry asked smirking.

"Precisely." Severus agreed as the game began. By the end of the match -that was just as disastrous as advertised- Harry had slipped into a contemplative silence, one that Severus chose not to interrupt; if anything, he could perfectly understand why Harry would want to compete. His more protective side wanted nothing more than to lock him in the highest tower of Silbreith until after the Triwizard Tournament was over. And he might have done just that if he wasn't certain Harry would blow the whole tower to pieces and then regret doing so; the highest tower of Silbreith was the astronomy tower after all and Harry's unofficial secondary bedroom along with his lab.

And, his more rational side added, you can't shelter him forever. Sooner or later, Voldemort would return and then what? Wouldn't it be better if he got some wide scale experience, in a relatively controlled environment? So what if he got a few panic attacks along the way? Severus sighed deeply and entered his office; Harry had taken a few books on powerful Charms and had locked himself in his room with an apologetic smile. And Severus was certain the teen was already designing strategies for winning the Tournament, most likely based on what he had read on the previous events held. The last one, if memory served him well, was held in Durmstrang and the winner was literally the last participant left standing. Fighting with his urge to run and hug Harry for dear life, he opted on a sip of fire whiskey and harassing Albus into taking all necessary measures to assure the safety of the participants.

The greater part of the summer passed between awed glances and Quidditch and soon it was time for the final game between Ireland and Bulgaria. It was a thrilled group of people that set out for the game; Ginny and Charlie had each congratulated Harry and Severus -Ginny looking the less surprised of the bunch and actually offering an immediate smile the earnestness of which Harry couldn't help but appreciate- and had followed the majority their family, minus Mrs. Weasley who would join them later that evening, to the game. Neville would meet them there later that day and the green eyed wizard had promised him a detailed description of any stunned students in attendance.

Harry and Neville had corresponded faithfully the whole summer after the later had left Silbreith to spend some time with his grandmother but had refrained from discussing what Neville liked to refer to as "Harry's secret identity" via letters. The green eyed wizard couldn't wait to meet with his best friend again; if nothing else, he wanted to tell him of the Triwizard Tournament, another thing he had refrained from informing him by mail. That one hadn't exactly been a matter of security; he just wanted to see Neville's face once he found out. With such thoughts, Harry and Severus had joined everyone outside the stadium, having left from Silbreith, and were met with the gawking stares of Hogwarts's students for the first time.

"You know," Severus stated passing by Oliver Wood who was just pointing at them slack-jawed without actually managing to produce any sort of sound, "I had thought this was going to get annoying quickly; the stares and all."

"But you're still enjoying it, aren't you?" Harry asked smiling innocently at his former team captain and waving as Severus followed suit.

"Still am." The potions master admitted. They walked casually around the camp site, pointing and laughing at the obviously magical tents being set around the place and the Ministry personnel trying to get them down.

"How many times can you have your memory wiped clean before you start losing it?" Harry wondered as Mr. Roberts, a Muggle and the site's manager, was once again being obliviated into forgetting the turrets on a purple and green tent.

"I imagine the original spells alone to keep him from wondering what are all these strangely dressed people doing here must have been harsh enough to begin with. I fear the poor man will be drooling for at least a week after the Tournament." Harry nodded as his eyes travelled on the weird combinations in clothing the witches and wizards around them had opted on wearing. A man that had greeted them upon arriving and a friend of Mr. Weasley, called Basil if Harry's memory served him right, was wearing a kilt and a poncho and the outfits followed the same pattern from then on. Harry pointed discretely to an old wizard dressed in a woman's nightgown and two Ministry employees following him around, one of them holding a pair of pinstriped trousers and trying to convince him to put them on. Severus burst out laughing and Harry soon joined him; they hadn't quite managed to stop by the time they reached the tents that had been set up. Or that had been attempted to be set up.

There were three tents; two for the men that outnumbered the women of the group and one for the ladies. Well, at least Harry supposed what he was looking at was tents; they mostly appeared like random sheets of cloth haphazardly thrown over wooden poles.

"My Dad decided to set the tents the Muggle way." Ginny stated, noticing Harry's amused face.

"Still, how hard can it be?" Severus asked as Harry nodded in agreement.

"Not that much, I believe." Ginny admitted, smirking at her father's attempts to prevent the tents from toppling over. "It's just that Sirius liked the idea and agreed to help."

"That settles it." Harry offered and chuckled as the tent that was meant for the women of the group fell sideways onto Sirius's head.

"You're hopeless." Severus muttered as Sirius cast him a death glare.

"If you think you can do better than that, feel free to try!" He growled as James helped him disentangle himself from the mess that was supposed to be a tent.

"Fine." Severus stated and discarded his leather jacket on the forest floor. Their group was one of the few that were dressed normally -for Muggles' standards- and the potions master had opted for dark jeans, a long sleeved, off white henley shirt and the black leather jacket that had been carelessly tossed on the ground. He rolled his sleeves up and started working on the closer tent.

"You actually know how to set up a tent, professor?" Adrian asked, speaking softly, still not daring to dismiss the image of Severus he had created over the past years completely.

"I do." Severus admitted as he finished correcting the first tent -that now actually looked like one- fastening the last rope on the stakes on the ground and rising up to meet the startled faces around him. "And you know who else does?"

"Who?" Adrian asked, as the potions master turned to Lily who was standing between him and the next tent.

"Your mother does." He answered smirking. "And it makes one wonder why she didn't even offer to help."

"It also makes one wonder why nobody considered asking for my help." Lily deadpanned looking at her gawking husband. Severus rolled his eyes, thinking that these two were definitely still in love; just lost in translation somewhere along the way. Helping them might not just be as difficult as he had originally imagined. "Male pride I presume."

"Well, I'm fully prepared to take a hit on my ego should you decide to help." The potions master offered, pointing at the remaining two tents.

"Only if you say  _please_." Lily sing-songed, causing Severus to roll his eyes. That didn't make her move and she just stood expectantly, smirking at her childhood friend. James bristled and fidgeted but remained silent.

"Fine, can you help me set up the tents,  _please_." He asked never minding the gawking crowd or Harry, who was snickering at the unraveling scene.

"See?" Lily asked back, her gaze falling to her dazzled husband. "That's all it takes." And she promptly began fixing the second tent while Harry helped Severus with the remaining one. Severus then offered to help start the fire -as Mr. Weasley was insisting on using Muggle methods still- while Harry was dispatched along with his brother, Hermione and Ron to fetch some water. Following the directions of a map they had been given -and stopping to stare at the clover covered tents of the supporters of Ireland's team and for Harry to be stared at in turn by a stunned Seamus- the three teenagers chatted along the way, mostly about Quidditch; Adrian and Ron seemed especially interested on Harry's opinion on the two teems as, not only had he designed their brooms, he had also watched all their games.

"Well, Ireland has the best team, that's certain." Harry admitted, trying to ignore the same man dressed in the flowery nightgown from before while Hermione fled to gather herself after a hysteric giggle outburst. "But Krum is just so good, he's worth all of Ireland's Chasers; if Lynch doesn't work fast enough or, more likely, doesn't prove lucky enough, Krum might just end the game before Ireland manages to take the lead." Harry stopped his reasoning to fill the containers they had brought with water from the tap. "And besides," Harry continued "Krum is quite renowned for executing perfect Wronsky Feints and he has yet to pull one on the opponent Seeker; I'm hoping to see one today, personally. Rumor has it, Lynch isn't the sharpest tool in the box; I bet he'd fall for it." Adrian agreed, Ron seemed to be hanging from his lips and Hermione shot him furtive glances and then turned away, blushing slightly more every time he caught her. Mentally cocking an eyebrow at her antics, he waved at Cho Chang who greeted him from afar, glad to note that he managed to do so without tripping on his own two feet at her answering smile.

"Wasn't that the Ravenclaw Seeker? Chang, I believe?" Adrian asked, his eyes lingering on the pretty girl.

"Yes." Harry answered smiling.

"Do you know her?" The hazel eyed twin inquired.

"Not very well." Harry admitted. "Well, not  _yet_." Adrian stared at his brother in shock, as Harry smirked laxly and winked at him. Sure, he had said that mostly to yank his brother's chain, but he wouldn't be averse to getting to know Miss Chang a little better; she was interested in Quidditch too after all and she  _was_  pretty, he had to admit. Okay, maybe he was doing it just to yank his brother'd chain. Adrian was about to say something more on the subject before he realized they had reached their camping spot. And right on time it seemed, as Lily had just taken the eggs and bacon off the pan. Handing the water over, the three teenagers sat down to enjoy their breakfast.

"Nagnok passed by while you were gone." Severus offered. "He wanted to talk business, again, but it's all good news!"

"What?"

"Apparently, the memory spheres' sells have gone through the roof what with the Quidditch Cup." The potions master explained. "And the Ministry approved of my healing potions line for testing. The experimental treatments will begin at St. Mungo's come September."

"Bravo!" Harry exclaimed and sat down next to him. Harry could easily bet whose name would come up at the final Wizegamont meeting of the year when the Order of Merlin medals were discussed.

"Healing potions?" Remus asked, his curiosity getting the best of him. "What healing potions?" Severus began explaining and Harry tried to stifle his laughter while watching Sirius pretending to be uninterested by the whole conversation. Hermione seemed to be mentally taking notes on the things she wanted to ask and the green eyed wizard pretended to ignore her too; he had already answered far too many questions the past few weeks.

"Young Master Potter." A voice that clearly belonged to a goblin sounded from behind the teenager; knowing fully well that it wasn't Nagonok, Harry turned around and swiftly stood up as he recognized the goblin in question. It was Ragnok, the president of Gringotts, a goblin Harry had only seen once before and only from afar.

"Ragnok-nür." Harry returned the greeting, addressing the goblin with the customary respect one extended to his elders in goblin tradition. The old goblin smiled, sharp teeth clearly visible.

"I just wished to congratulate you on your broom-smith skills. The World Cup has been rendered that much more enjoyable." Harry smirked and bowed slightly expressing his thanks. He well knew that Ragnok only wanted an excuse to meet him and Severus and the Firebolt provided just that; it was after all known to all that, for every goblin Gringgots appointed as a financial advisor, the bank earned two percent of the yearly stipends of said clients. The fact that a goblin financial advisor most likely doubled the client's profits made that arrangement a win-win situation. Still, Gringgots was making a good profit from the two wizards -and gaining free publicity too- so it made sense to Harry that the president would want to meet the geese that lay the golden eggs. Trying not to laugh at how that statement applied to him as an alchemist, he made small talk with Ragnok for a while longer before the goblin left, only after both he and Severus had assured him that they were completely satisfied with Nagnok's services and he had cautioned them all to not bet with Ludo Baggman; apparently he had betted an obscene amount of money that was dubious if he possessed already.

"Bloody hell!" Sirius exclaimed. "Was that the president of Griggots?"

"Yep." Harry stated nonchalantly checking the time. Neville was about to arrive in the next twenty minutes and he would better head to the meeting point. "I'm going to pick up Neville." The green eyed teen announced turning at the potions master. "Can I trust not to find the tents in ashes when I return?" And he sneaked a glance at his godfather who was already nursing two blistered fingers from his attempt at cooking and a pout to boot.

"I'll do my best." Severus assured him smirking and Harry nodded waving them temporarily goodbye. He was in a good mood and still smiling when Neville appeared, excited to going to his first professional Quidditch game ever.

"Hey, Harry!" He greeted his best friend, eyes glittering in joy. Harry returned the smile and walked towards Neville giving him a one armed hug.

"Hello, Nev!" Now that the concealment charms had been lifted and given Neville's recent growth spurt, the two boys were roughly the same size, something the brown eyed boy didn't fail to comment upon in hushed tones.

"Ruddy hell, Harry!" Neville said as they started walking back. "Those spells had done a number on you, hadn't they?" He still had smile at the changes on his brother; only the fact that he looked healthy now was a huge relief. The fact that he looked happy was simply and added bonus.

"Well, that was the point." Harry admitted, glad once more that Neville was taking everything so well.

"Is your family suspecting anything of the… you know?" Neville asked looking around carefully to make sure they weren't being overheard.

"Surprisingly, nothing." Harry admitted; he had thought that there would be something, some inkling of doubt in their reasoning, but it seemed it was just as Merlin had predicted; they had all believed Adrian was the Boy Who Lived for so long, they had held onto that idea for so many years, that no matter what he did -with the exception of straightforwardly telling them- they wouldn't be shaken. "I feel that I will have to persuade them when the time comes."

"Admittedly it's a bit far fetched but… I mean nobody? Not even a suspicion?" Neville asked.

"Well, Dumbledore has been looking at me strangely, almost as if he's been unable to make heads or tails about me, but he's been looking at Sev the same way. It's a bit hard to tell." Harry admitted. It had been unnerving, having the Headmaster's blue eyes focused on him for the past month but he was bearing it with a smile. His occlumency walls were stronger than ever but Dumbledore hadn't yet tried to get past his defenses. If he did try however, Harry had been honing his legilimens skills enough to have some lovely faux memories to satisfy the Headmaster's curiosity.

"They are still too stunned of you to start wondering perhaps?" Neville offered as they waved at some Hufflepuff students in the distance.

"Or they just can't even fathom the idea." Harry offered. "Oh, and before we reach to the tents, the Triwizard Tournament will be held in Hogwarts this year." Harry stated calmly as if it was nothing of great importance and kept on walking. Neville, who had stopped frozen in his track, run to catch up with him.

"The  _what_?" He whispered frantically, eyes wide in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"It's supposed to be a great secret and all," Harry admitted "so, naturally, Dad told me."

"The Triwizard Tournament?" Neville wondered out loud in awe. Then he glanced at his best friend, a smirk on his lips and a mischievous glint in his eyes. "You're thinking of competing, aren't you?" Harry raised an eyebrow at his friend's swift -and spot on- accession.

"You know me too well, Mr. Longbottom." He admitted, assuming and important air.

"I should hope so, being your best friend and all, Mr. Potter." Neville deadpanned. Nodding his acquiescence with a lopsided smile, Harry pointed to where their tents stood.

"And I should guess we tell nothing of the Tournament to Adrian and co.?" Neville whispered, his lips barely moving as he waved at the gathered crowd.

"You would be correct." Harry offered and introduced Neville to Charlie and Bill, the two Weasley brothers he hadn't met with in the past.

"Hello, professor." Neville said finally, sitting next to Severus and offering him a grin.

"Good morning, Neville." The potions master greeted him back. "Excited for the game?"  
"Unbelievably so!" Neville supplied.

"Huh." Sirius muttered from his spot by the fire.

"Huh?" Severus asked, casting him a curious look.

"It's just, Neville over here doesn't look that much surprised by, you know, everything?" The dog animagus pointed out, looking at Neville critically. Before Severus or Harry got to answer however, Neville jumped at the opportunity to join in the fun.

"Surprised by what, professor?"

"I'm no longer your professor, Neville." The man in question offered somewhat affronted. "Call me Sirius. And what I meant was; doesn't Snape look a bit different to you? Or Harry for that matter?" Neville cocked an eyebrow and looked between his potions professor and his best friend.

"Why, they look exactly the same from last I saw them!" Severus and Harry did their best to mask their amusement at both Neville's declaration and the befuddled people surrounding them.

"And, when was that exactly?" James asked.

"About a month into the summer holidays, when I stayed at Silbreith for a few days. Just after the Rennes tournament, wasn't it?" He asked innocently as he turned to Harry for confirmation.

"Yes, it was five days after the tournament." Harry agreed.

"You've been to Silbreith?" Lily asked, her question eclipsed from her husband's.

"You  _knew_  about Silbreith?"

"Yes to both?" The boy asked, seemingly confused.

"How did you know?" The Potter patriarch asked again acidly. Neville, still furious at how Harry had been treated by his family and determined to honour the vow he gave about standing by his brother's side, opted on not hexing the man opposite him, consequences be damned, and instead said, shrugging as if it was obvious;

"Well, all I had to do was ask." James visibly deflated after that and Harry felt like hugging Neville right there and then while Severus mentally awarded ten points to Gryffindor. Lily tried to overlook James outburst and started a conversation on the game that slowly spread as Sirius and Remus shared a heavy look; Neville's words had affected them the most it seemed.

"You've wanted to say something like that since Harry first told you of his past, haven't you?" Severus asked Neville, hidden behind his newspaper.

"Yep." The boy answered.

"Has Harry told you of the Triwizard Tournament?" Severus asked smiling.

"Yep."

"You're really enjoying this then."

"Yep." Neville answered for the third time, smiling softly over a cup of tea he had received from Mrs. Weasley as Harry winked at him from the other side of the camp where he was explaining to Charlie the basics on how the latest model of the Firebolt worked. What was the most unexpected was the jealous look Adrian had cast towards Neville accompanied with a frown that went unnoticed in the midst of the generally jovial atmosphere.

The morning passed almost uneventfully with the Weasley twins refusing to bet against Ludo Baggman claiming that, when a goblin gives you a financial advice, you stick to it. Harry agreed wholeheartedly and so it was a slightly disappointed Baggman that left their group in search of more willing participants.

"We still think that Ireland will win but Krum will catch the Snitch." Fred admitted making Harry nod appreciatively; he had his bets on Ireland himself, but he had seen Krum play enough to know he would wish to end the game on his terms, keeping his pride should things go south.

The game was thirty minutes short of beginning when the group decided it was time to walk towards the stadium. Harry and Severus along with Neville were walking ahead, making predictions on the outcome while the rest followed in various states of confusion and ire.

James was fuming as he stared at the backs of his childhood rival happily chatting away on Quidditch statistics with his youngest son and his son's best friend as if he had no care in the world. The past few weeks had been testing his nerves to no end. He had tried to capture his younger son's interest to anything he and Adrian usually did together, he had tried to find out things about his life, about his interests. The boy simply didn't feel like sharing. The Potter patriarch has studiously ignored that little voice in the back on his head that whispered that all the questions he had were ones he shouldn't have need of asking. He should have known how his younger son spent his life, how he did in school, how he had managed to design a racing broomstick at the age of thirteen. But that voice was immediately smothered along with the traces of guilt that had crept up. This was all Snape's fault; it had to be.

Adrian on his part, looked at his brother as he conversed with Neville, laughing at an inside joke the boy had brought up -something to do with a greenhouse at Silbreith- his mind reeling. How come Neville Longbottom of all people knew so much about his twin brother? His mind traveled back to last summer when he had spend two hours staring at the Firebolt display at Diagon Alley; why hadn't Harry said anything to him? Why hadn't he stepped up and said 'You know, brother? I  _designed_  this!' to him? Didn't he deserve to know stuff like that?

And without the knowledge of either her sons or her husband, one Lily Potter was contemplating those urges she had been having lately. It was irrational she knew. Maybe it was the fact that she and James hadn't been doing that well lately. She inwardly winced. That was a weak excuse even for her personal ponderings. It was a pile up of reasons really but… James and her had been drawing further apart as the years progressed; it would be his job, a meeting he had to attend that was always more important than their plans together, Adrian's training even! Somewhere along the way they had just stopped being them. Lily and James, James and Lily, couple extraordinaire. And she knew it was somewhat petty, but she could also foretell that the future was going to be bleak. She just wanted her husband completely by her side when that future befell them. Was that too much to ask?

Severus on the other hand… He had always been there for her, she remembered that. In the years before Hogwarts when she had been so alone and scared at her first bursts of accidental magic. All through the years of her sister's jealousy. By her side at Hogwarts too, even if they were placed at rival Houses. His one mistake had been made when he was barely sixteen and had just been publically humiliated by James and the rest of the Marauders; the insult had slipped past his lips and she had seen -even back then she knew- that he had regretted saying it the very same minute. And what had she done? Pushed him away, of course. Trump on the feelings she knew he nursed for her and turn to the boy that had hurt him so many times before, the boy which, up to that moment, she had been terrified accepting an attraction for. But that incident had given her the opportunity to approach James while quenching the guilt of abandoning her best friend, in a way. Well, not completely. Severus though had seemed to move on, or so she had thought with her sixteen-year-old wisdom. In retrospect she should have known better.

She sighed as her eyes slid from Severus's form to her husband. She missed him, she thought to herself for the umpteenth time. She missed them as they used to be. Back in the beginning when they were still happy and really together even through the war and the prophecy and all the early training of Adrian. They had drifted apart, hadn't they? Lily wondered if James would realize that eventually; she hoped if and when he did wouldn't be too late.

The large group walked further into the forest, guided by the lanterns that had been placed there to create a clear path for them to follow to reach the stadium. It wasn't the first game Harry would be attending of course, but it was the finals and the teen knew the Ministry had gone all out to create a new stadium that would be used just this once to house the imminent game. Having worked on sensing magic with Severus, he immediately felt it when they walked out of the unprotected area of the forest and into the wards that protected the stadium before he could even see it. He wasn't yet experienced enough to discern the different wards but he could tell a great deal of work had gone in their creation. He thought back at how the magic of the wards felt at Hogwarts every time he had tried to seek it out; the wards of the school were older, without a doubt, and much stronger than the ones here. It wasn't difficult to see why it was considered the safest building in the country. Should the need arise, Harry thought, the castle could probably withstand a magical siege, should there be people defending it from the inside.

All thoughts of magical sieges left his mind when they actually walked out of the trees and into the large clearing where the stadium had been set up. It was huge, much larger than any of the stadiums he had been before and Harry was certain the Ministry officials had gone to great lengths in their effort to surpass the grandeur of any World Championship held before. The walls of the stadium were painted gold -really subtle, the green eyed wizard thought sarcastically- and glittered under the morning sun while colourful banners swayed in the breeze; the crowds were already gathering and Harry could feel his excitement mounting.

"Wow." Neville stated eloquently next to him, looking up. "Rather ostentatious, isn't it?"

"Now why would you say that?" Harry wondered with mock surprise colouring his voice.

"It's the sparkling that did it for me." Neville informed his best friend, trying to keep a serious façade. "Yep, definitely the sparkling." The two boys chuckled for a while before an amused potions master urged them to keep moving.

"We'd better get inside." Severus cautioned. "I fear staring at these walls for an extended period of time might be harmful for my eyesight." That quip easily prompted another round of laughter but got the two teens moving nonetheless. Harry could faintly hear Mr. Weasley commenting on the stadium; apparently it could seat a hundred thousand people and Harry wouldn't be surprised should someone tell him they could fit ten cathedrals in there.

Their seats were at the Top Box, as it turned out and far higher up than the rest boxes of the stadium. It was an excited and slightly out of breath group that entered the box. They were seated in the plush purple chairs in the front row and proceeded chatting as animatedly as before while the rest of spectators meant to watch the match from their box filled in. Fudge, Ludo Bagman, the Bulgarian Minister of Magic, some more ministry officials Severus greeted by name, shocking the assorted crowd who was under the impression he had no other connections with society.

"Whatever." The potions master mumbled at their reaction and Harry exchanged an amused glance with Neville as the last three people missing entered the box. It was hard to not notice the Malfoys, Harry admitted, as the three members of the house walked in and took their place in the front line, passing a house elf -Winky Harry believed her name was- that was supposed to be keeping a seat for her master even though she was terribly afraid of heights. Their silvery blond hair shone almost white in the morning light, their dark blue robes contrasted with their pale skin and their haughty expressions remained unchanged -well, if one excepted the disdainful glare one Lucius Malfoy spared the Weasley patriarch once their eyes met- as they took their seats, exchanging pleasantries with the Minister.

Harry rolled his eyes and was about to make an appropriate comment to Neville when Draco turned to look at them. Harry could in no certain way be certain, but he felt as if the blond teen had waited till his parents were absorbed in a conversation with a Bulgarian dignitary before turning to face him and Severus. From Draco's reaction it was quite clear that he hadn't expected Harry would be looking at him at the time. So there was a definite shock when their gazes locked and the cold sneer and contempt slipped over his characteristics before Harry had the time to blink. Still, the green eyed teen could almost swear that he had caught a glimpse of something else there. For a moment Draco Malfoy had looked… _sad_? Why on earth would he feel sad for?

It wasn't as if Harry believed Draco incapable of feelings; it was that the Slytherin had never shown anything other than disinterest and the occasional ire. Haughtiness perhaps with some smug satisfaction here and there. Harry hadn't spent much time in the ash blonde's presence to know with certainty -definitely less than his brother had even if they were in one more class together; students tended to be much too focused on their task at hand during Arithmology to do much else- but he had never known Draco to look sad of all things. Harry internally chastised himself and shrugged his thoughts off. He was over-thinking again, probably over something that existed only in his imagination.

Ludo Bagman chose that moment to announce the beginning of the game, his voice echoing through the stadium, magically magnified with a _Sonorus_  charm. The advertisements' board on the other side of the field -both the Firebolt and the Memory Sphere's had featured in passing- was replaced with the score of the game and then the mascots' entrance was announced. First to go was Bulgaria and they had brought;

" _Veela_?" Severus's surprised voice sounded over the sudden silence in the Top Box.

"Oh dear." Harry muttered and immediately closed his eyes, motioning Neville to do the same. He would be the first to admit that veela dancing was a sight worth seeing and something he would have definitely enjoyed were the circumstances different. But seated as he was on the highest box of the stadium he would rather not take a swan dive towards the pit if he could avoid it. Ron and Adrian seemed to be prepared to do just that, Harry noted when he opened his eyes again, once the music had stopped.

"So, Sev." He said, turning towards his father. "Veela." The man rolled his eyes as Neville chuckled at the display.

"Hello pot, this is kettle. Guess what; we're black!" Was the potions master response, at which both teens burst into uncontrollable laughter, one that Sirius's completely disgruntled and slightly disgusted look only helped in prolonging. They all cheered at Ireland's mascots as the leprechauns showered them with fool's gold and then cheered some more as the teams were announced and entered the field. When Bagman called Krum's name, the crowds went wild.

"That's him, that's him!" yelled Ron, following Krum with his Omnioculars. Harry whistled as he observed Bulgaria's Seeker fly around the field. Thin, dark, and allow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows, he looked like an overgrown bird of prey and completely in his element as he manoeuvred around on his Firebolt.

"Those brooms of yours are really something, Mr. Potter!" An excited Ministry official seated right behind Harry exclaimed as Sirius nodded emphatically.

"Why thank you, Mr…?"

"Andrews, Robert Andrews." The man introduced himself. Apparently he was the president of the Ministry's committee that rated the new broomsticks that hit the market while also making certain the abided to all safety regulations. "Back at work we're all waiting anxiously for the Seeker's Edition!"

"It's good to know, sir." Harry answered with a wide smile. "You should receive the first broom for testing within the week." Mr. Andrews answering smile was blinding and the man practically stuttered at the prospect. A bigger Quidditch fan than Sirius had been found, Harry mused smirking as he turned back to the field where Ireland's team was announced.

"Lynch doesn't stand a chance against Krum!" Ron loudly proclaimed.

"Is Krum really that good?" Neville, who had never watched Krum play before, wondered. Ron, Adrian, Sirius and James all started trying to explain why Krum was the best Seeker in the world simultaneously, while Severus simply stated;

"He is. Why do you think I'm paying him all that money?" The cacophony that had been praising Krum's talent dissolved into a stunned silence at Severus reminding them that he was in a way Krum's boss. The potions master just smirked, glad that they could now watch the match in peace. Harry snickered and turned his attention back at the field, activating a Memory Sphere to record the game. His smirk widened as he watched the majority of the people assorted in the box do the same.

The game itself had proved more than interesting; veela danced and breathed flames, referees had to be slapped and leprechauns were generally smug and insulting. It soon became clear why Krum was the superior Seeker. He had turned the chase of the Snitch into a wild sprint around the field, with Lynch chasing him instead of trying to catch the actual Snitch. Harry winced as the green clad Seeker crushed on the field after a perfectly executed Wronski Defence Feint from Krum. Still, no matter how hard Krum tried, it was clear that Ireland had the best team. They had taken the lead almost from the beginning and maintained that difference throughout the game. Krum, realising there was no way of wining the game opted to keep his pride intact at least. In an impressive swoop, he duped Lynch and caught the Snitch, amidst loud applause.

"We called it! We called it!" The twins sing-songed as the crowds went berserk. The award ceremony was held in general excitement even if it was still unclear for whom the applause was for.

"Krum really  _is_  that good!" Neville admitted later that night when they had returned at their tents. They had decided to spend the night camping, as the majority of the witches and wizards would do, and leave at the first light of morning; it had taken them some time to return to their tents however as the two teams were adamant they wanted to meet the creator of the broomsticks they had used. Harry had congratulated the members of each team and had managed to spend a few minutes speaking to Krum; the older wizard was still a bit disappointed at the result of the game but his spirits seemed to lift a little as Harry assured him he had never seen a Firebolt flown better. He had kindly declined the invitation for dinner, even if the remaining occupants of the Top Box, minus their group, would stay to do just that. He really didn't want to spend more time than what was necessary in Fudge's presence and Severus tended to avoid the man like the plague.

"Of course he is!" Ron exclaimed scandalised, not understanding how someone could possibly have a doubt. The atmosphere was jovial even if a bit bizarre; the Potter family along with Sirius and Remus had been used to gathering and talking about Quidditch and the Weasleys were practically extended family as it was. The presence of Severus and Neville -the presence of Harry too as he had never been actively included in such conversations before- had thrown them all slightly off balance. And it wasn't just their presence, no; there were three people that were up to recently described as quiet, shy, reserved or, in Severus's case, down right antisocial, talking boisterously and laughing openly for all to see.

"That's weird." James muttered from where he sat next to Sirius as the once feared big bad bat from the dungeons was amusing the ladies and the teenagers of the room narrating his and Harry's time at the Rennes tournament with Harry gleefully commenting.

"You're telling me?" The dog animagus whispered back, trying his best not to laugh at Harry's vivid re-enactment of taking down one of his opponents that seemed to have been twice as wide as the teen. He was glad for his goddson that was certain; he had frequently thought of him in the past, while they were off with Adrian training, and wondered how his vacation time was spent. The boy had never complained thought -and now Sirius could see why!- and he had kept reminding himself that it wasn't his place to decide how Harry should be trained. 'And now you have lost so much of his life, you jerk!' he berated himself as Severus's deep voice described the best possible move against a larger opponent.

"But how much larger can an opponent be?" Molly questioned, her cheeks darkening lightly as she eyed Severus contemplatively.

"Not necessarily taller, Molly." Severus explained, admitting he hadn't encountered someone taller than his six feet two frame at the competition. "But definitely heavier." Harry nodded, remembering a teen he had competed against that outweighed him by some good fifty pounds.

"The tournament sounds really interesting!" Neville exclaimed, his mind already picturing the swordfights and the melee the potions master was describing

"Next year, you're coming with us, Nev." Harry stated, high-fiving his best friend, both teens smiling.

"Of course you are!" Severus assured the boy. "Just keep practising at the moves I showed you and you might just as well compete too."

"You've been practicing swordfight, Neville?" Adrian asked, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Yes, he has." Harry offered. "He might look all quiet, but he has a mean swing!"

"Why thank you, Mr. Potter!" Neville said, rising up and bowing with a flourish.

"I think we broke you, Neville." Severus admitted, unable to keep a smile from his face.

"Good for us." Harry added.

"I may have walked into a parallel dimension." Bill stated, looking at Severus and trying to reconcile his present image with the sullen, cold and downright scary professor he remembered.

"Maybe a personality altering spell?" Charlie offered, having the exact same problems as his older brother.

"That, or I have an evil twin." Severus stated seriously causing the tent to fall silent before Harry and Neville burst out laughing at the joke, the potions master himself soon following their example.

"I'll stick with the parallel dimension theory." Sirius stated. Severus rolled his eyes.

"I'll have you know, Black, that…" And like that, everything went to hell. First it was a loud sound, as if an explosion had been set off at the campsite. Then it was screaming and the sound of people screaming and running. More explosions. The easygoing atmosphere in the tent evaporated in the blink of an eye as wands were drawn. Sirius and James exchanged a look and walked out the tent, their auror training kicking in. Severus and Remus were after them in a second, followed by Arthur and his two eldest sons. Lily and Molly moved in front of the teens protectively; Harry would have never thought that Molly Weasley could look dangerous, but there you had it.

"Stay." Severus ordered over his shoulder as the remaining members of their group nodded at the clear command in his voice. Harry held onto his wand tighter. This couldn't be good. Not good at all. The panicked noises seemed to be multiplying. Was one small respite so much to ask? Harry thought, his eyes closing as he sighed. He could feel a hand falling on his shoulder in a comforting manner and opened his eyes. Neville was standing by his side, wand in hand and a decisive look in his eyes. He was ready to stand by him no matter what. Harry nodded and turned to look at the entrance of the tent, preparing himself for the worst. What was going on?

"What's happening?" Hermione asked, looking pale, her voice trembling.

"I'm not sure." Lily said. "Whatever happens, try not to panic. And you have permission to use your wands." Suddenly, Mr. Weasley entered the tent, his eyes wide and frantic, his demeanour dark.

"Grab your jackets and run! Out now!" He exclaimed as everyone bust into motion.

"Why? Dad, what's happening?" Ron asked as he hastily put on his jacket.

"No time for that now!" Arthur exclaimed. "Keep your wands at hand and run! We're moving towards the forest! Quickly!" James stepped in the tent to speed up the process.

"Move, now!" He turned towards Lily. "Lily take Adrian and run towards the woods!"

"Why?" Lily asked even as she grabbed her eldest and protesting son and walked towards the exit of the tent.

"Death Eaters." James stated and fled the tent. Everybody walked out in a panicked silence. Death Eaters. Voldemort's followers; Harry's brain was trying to catch up with what he had heard, finding it impossible. Death Eaters. How was that even possible? He followed Fred out the tent and looked around. By the light of the few fires that were still burning, he could see people running away into the woods, leeing something that was moving across the field toward them, something that was emitting odd flashes of light and noises like gunfire. Loud jeering, roars of laughter, and drunken yells were drifting toward them; then came a burst of strong green light, which illuminated the scene. Someone had cast the killing curse. And then Harry saw them.

A pack of wizards, twenty, maybe more, walked towards the fleeing crowds, casting any curse they could think of towards every direction. Children were running and screaming, asking for their parents, parents were running around panicked, searching for their children amongst collapsed tents. An old lady stumbled and fell at her mad dash towards the woods, only to be picked up by a woman passing by, both of them stumbling away from the laughing Death Eaters. And there, in the middle of the campsite, suspended mid-air by invisible wires, like a terrible facsimile of marionettes, were four struggling figures. Two of them were very small, Harry noted, his mind numb. Like children. And they screamed, in fear and in pain, as they floated defenceless, at the mercy of their hooded tormentors.

"Mr. Roberts?" Neville muttered. Mr. Roberts? Wasn't that the name of the Muggle who owned the campsite? So that was his family? His children?

"Harry?" Severus's voice sounded from his left. "We have to move." More Death Eaters appeared, trumping on tents and spreading terror as they went. Mrs. Roberts was turned upside down. One of her children started spinning fast, sixty feet from the ground.

"Merlin help us." Neville muttered.

"That's sick!" Ron said gasping from somewhere behind them. Harry could hear his mother urging Adrian away, James rushing forward to join the few wizards and witches that had managed to keep their wits and had started forming some sort of a resistance against the black clad wizards. And the children kept screaming, the people kept running, the Death Eaters kept laughing.

"Harry?" Severus asked tentatively. He had probably seen the signs before Harry himself felt them but felt them now he did. He was trembling and his blood was burning, rushing to his brain as the grotesque scene unfolded in front of him. Terror. Panic. This was what war looked like. This was what Voldemort would bring with him and worse. Fear. Pain. And Harry looked on, his fingers clenching painfully around his wand, nails breaking skin and drawing blood. Desperation. Horror. This was what the future would look like. The children screamed on.

"Dad." Harry murmured, his voice so low and thick, Severus had to read his lips to understand what he had said. He spoke no more. He didn't need to. Severus understood quite well. Harry wanted to fight. He wouldn't run. Harry was determined. And, Severus realised as he took in his son, Harry was angry. No, not angry. Harry was  _furious_. There was no stopping him at this point. All Severus could do would be standing by him and through it all. So he just nodded and turned towards the Death Eaters himself; this was his place in the war, his place in life.

"You're not going against them like this." Neville stated, looking at his best friend, fire burning in his eyes.

"Nev…"

"Let me rephrase that." Neville said, interrupting Harry, knowing there was no time to waste. The Death Eaters were swiftly approaching them. "You're not going against them without me."

"Neville…" Harry tried to protest once more.

"Shut up, Potter." The boy stated, smiling sadly. "I'm your brother. I'm coming with you." Harry smiled back and nodded.

"Well then, gentlemen." Severus stated. He would rather hide both boys from the world but his son was so stubborn he would find a way to fight anyway. And it seemed that Neville would follow his friend -his brother- to every fight. He would be damned if he let them fight alone. "Shall we?" And they moved forward.

"Harry, Neville!" Fred or George screamed. "What are you doing?" Their shouts did nothing to deter the two boys. The twins shared a look and tried to follow.

"No!" Ginny shouted, catching their attention. Fred and George meant well, she knew. But they could serve as a distraction at that point. So would she for that matter, she knew. "Let them go; professor Snape is with them. We have to find Mum." And she turned around towards the forest. There was time to fight and fight she would. But as much as she wanted to help, she wasn't ready yet. She decided for now, she would just have to get out of the way of those who could fight and let them do it.

In the meanwhile, the small group of three wizards moved forward, wands at hand. Harry felt his anger spike; he cast a cushioning spell under the Roberts family and then turned his attention back towards the Death Eaters. They had stopped momentarily, trying to identify who had sent the spell their way. It wasn't long before they had spotted the three wizards. Their eyes skimmed over Harry and Neville and stopped at Severus recognising him. Swiftly deciding he was their primary target and with revenge against the traitor in their minds pointed their wands at the potions master.

Underestimating your opponent was the most common mistake in wizards' duelling and the very thing Severus had taught Harry back when he had first started training. And underestimating their enemy the Death Eaters had. Harry pointed his wand towards the ground under the Death Eaters, exploiting the fact they were standing on grass.

" _Terrae Legumina!_ " The spell was silent but the results were immediate. A dark brown orb of light left his wand and hit the ground, causing a strong pulse to emit from the point of impact and for a fifteen feet radius around it. It was a hex that only worked on dirt or rocky terrain but was extremely useful, Harry thought, as he watched the Death Eaters that held the Roberts in the air fly two feet in the air and ten feet backwards. He started casting offensive spells at any Death Eater in sight, his mind slipping into fighting mode, his many years of training honing his duelling skills. He ducked and parried, raising shields when necessary and fighting back when possible. With the corner of his eyes he could see Neville making sure the Roberts landed safely and got out of the way and Severus wrecking havoc in the Death Eater lines.

He ducked down low to evade a cutting curse flying his way and rolled out of the way of a Cruciatus before throwing back a spell of his own. He could now see groups of wizards closing in, joining the fight against the Death Eaters. The masked followers of the Dark Lord started running and apparating away, though a few of them opted to stay back and fight some more. One of them, an extremely tall and built wizard from what Harry could tell, slipped away from the main fight and turned towards the batch of trees where Neville had ushered the Roberts family. Whether it was just the family's bad luck or the Death Eater's intention to torture them some more -or worse- Harry didn't know. It didn't matter either; he saw red. He could still hear the children screaming and somewhere deep down he knew those screams would come to haunt him later on.

" _Ventilabis!_ " Was the next spell he used, throwing one of the Death Eaters that had tried to attack him away from him before running after the taller hooded man. He caught up with him just in time. Or more likely, just in time to see a second Death Eater being hit by a cutting hex and scurrying away from the terrified Roberts'. The taller Death Eater looked around, but whomever had cast the spell had already ran away. From where he stood, he couldn't see him. Harry however had, even if it had been for a moment. But a moment had been enough to give him pause. _What_?

His thoughts however strayed from the confusing trail they had taken once the tall Death Eater turned his attention towards the Roberts'. The two children screamed again, tears in their eyes and the Death Eater laughed. He  _laughed_. Harry could hear and feel his heartbeat in every single vein and artery in his body. Molten, white hot fury flowed through him and, as the hooded man raised his wand and uttered the first syllables of the killing curse, his wand aimed at the youngest child of the family, Harry moved. He was faster.

" _Flammifer Ictus_!" Flame tongues shot from his wand and stroke the Death Eater straight on the chest, sending him on the ground, howling in pain, his robes on fire. And just as Harry stepped forward to stun him, an eerie silence spread in the field. Harry's first thought had been Dementors, but he couldn't feel the cold that usually accompanied their appearance. Then he noticed it. The night was illuminated green from something floating right above the forest. The Death Eater on the ground apparated even if he seemed to be in terrible pain. He would bear the scar for the rest of his life, Harry knew that the moment he cast the spell. There was no curing it. But what could be so terrible that had forced the man to flee, even when he must have been suffering from pain? One look upwards was all it took to find out. There, up in the sky, shining bright for all to see, was the Dark Mark.

With one last look to ascertain the Robinsons weren't heavily wounded, Harry turned around and ran, passing by a group of startled Ministry officials to join Severus and Neville. Both wizards were staring at the Dark Mark in fear, Severus masking it the best he could. Harry just stood by them frozen, thinking about all the things the Dark Mark stood for; Voldemort, fear, destruction and death. Death. When the Dark Mark was conjured someone had been killed. And the mark stood over the forest, where everyone had fled.

"Oh no." Harry muttered, his eyes seeking Severus for comfort. "You don't think?" He couldn't even complete his sentence.  _You don't think someone has been killed?_  How could he say something like that out loud? Not saying it couldn't make it not be true, but he still felt unable -unwilling- to utter the actual words.

"I hope not." Severus answered, understanding exactly what had been asked. "We had better go and find out." Harry nodded once and turned his eyes towards his best friend. Neville had a small gush on his cheek, from a cutting hex or dodging one, Harry couldn't tell and his jeans were slightly ripped on the right knee and stained with blood. It was nothing much, but Harry's anger returned twentyfold. How dared they? How dared they hurt his family?

"Are you alright, Nev?" Harry asked in concern.

"What?" Neville asked, preying his eyes from the mark. He looked a bit lost before his gaze fell on his injured leg and his left hand rose to touch his cheek. He winced a bit but nodded affirmative. "Just a few scratches." He turned towards Harry, his eyes widening. "Are  _you_  alright?" Harry wondered what Neville meant by that and rose his own hand to touch his right shoulder where his friend's eyes were locked. He winced as his fingers came in contact with a wound there, warm blood colouring his palm. He faintly remembered a sting when he had rolled out of the way of Cruciatus curse. He must have cut himself on a rock or something similar.

"Yes." Harry assured him as Severus approached him, fire burning in his eyes.

"Were you hit?" The potions master asked with barely contained fury. He would find whomever had done that to his son and kill him. Slowly and painfully, he swore on that.

"Ducked out of the way of a curse." Harry explained. Whether he was hit by a curse of not, whomever had caused Harry to get injured would be tracked down and dealt with, Severus insisted. "We should go." Harry stated and moved forward towards the forest, making sure his father was unharmed and following him. Neville walked with them as the swiftly approached the point right beneath the Dark Mark, wands at hand and posed to attack. The sight that greeted them was more than bizarre.

There was a group of wizards surrounding Adrian, Ron and Hermione along with a house elf. The same house elf that had been at the Top Box with them. And Mr. Crouch was there, blaming the poor creature for the ascension of the Dark Mark. Adrian was explaining that the wand that had been used to conjure the Dark Mark had been his while Crouch interrogated his house elf.

"I is not doing magic with it, sir!" squealed Winky, tears streaming down the sides of her squashed and bulbous nose. "I is... I is... I is just picking it up, sir! I is not making the Dark Mark, sir, I is not knowing how!"

"It wasn't her!" said Hermione. She looked very nervous, speaking up in front of all these Ministry wizards, yet determined all the same. "Winky's got a squeaky little voice, and the voice we heard doing the incantation was much deeper!" She looked around at Adrian and Ron, appealing for their support. "It didn't sound anything like Winky, did it?"

"No," said Adrian, shaking his head. "It definitely didn't sound like an elf."

"What's going on here?" Severus interrupted, walking towards the scene, not understanding a thing. "Are you actually claiming that an elf conjured the Dark Mark? That's plain stupid!" Hermione looked awestruck at Severus's declaration and then smiled brightly.

"She was found with the wand at hand, Professor." A sandy haired man explained. He reminded Harry faintly of somebody though he couldn't remember who exactly.

"Still, conjuring the Dark Mark, Mr. Diggory?" Cendric's father? That made sense. "It's neither an easy spell nor an incantation one can simply pick up from a book." Harry and Neville walked closer to the scene as he spoke.

"Harry!" Adrian called, looking at the blood staining his brother's shirt. "What happened to you?"

"A Death Eater." Harry answered, not intent on answering any questions at that point. Adrian's jaw fell slack.

"You fought them off?"

"Not alone." Harry stated, pointing at Severus and Neville.

"But…"

"Enough!" It was Mr. Crouch that had spoken up, a crazed look on his face. "We're straying off subject!" He turned his half deranged gaze towards the elf. Winky shivered in fear. "I have had enough! In the last few minutes, not only Adrian Potter but myself too have been accused for conjuring the Dark Mark!" His gaze fell on a stunned Mr. Diggory.

"Mr. Crouch, I would never…"

"You accused my house elf! Do you mean to say I routinely teach my servants how to conjure the Dark Mark?" Mr. Crouch exploded.

"No, sir, I…"

"Enough!" He turned towards the house elf, holding Adrian's wand in hand. "This is the wand that conjured the Dark Mark. And you were holding it when you were found; do you deny it?"

"No, sir, I was finding it, sir…"

"Silence!" The house elf took a step backwards and whimpered.

"Mr. Crouch." Harry cautioned him acidly. There was no way Winky had conjured the Dark Mark and he was terrorising her. "I believe you should calm down; surely Winky had nothing to do with…"

"I'm not finished!" Crouch exclaimed, not even turning to look at Harry. The boy clenched his teeth but remained silent; Crouch had made up his mind and would not be deterred. Hermione however, turned at him and smiled supportively. Crouch's rant continued; he insisted he had no need for a servant who wouldn't obey his command -Winky had been given clear instructions to remain in the tent. The fact that she could have been trumped obviously didn't factor in his decision- and thus had to be let go. That meant clothes. The poor creature was sobbing uncontrollably when Mr. Weasley and Severus opted to lead everyone away from the scene. There was nothing to be done there anymore and they had to locate the others.

"I can't believe this! The way he treated Winky was inhuman!" Hermione exclaimed. Harry had to agree on that. The very thought of someone treating Minnie like that made him want to hex something. He also knew there was nothing he could do for the house elf. Unfortunately, she was under Mr. Crouch's orders and would remain his property until set free.

"She's not human, Hermione." Ron offered, rather crassly.

"It's the same difference, Ron." Neville said, still disturbed by the whole scene; he was limping slightly and Harry cast him a worried glance. Neville shrugged his concern off, rolling his eyes and conveying he was just fine. Harry wouldn't believe him until after his wound had been tended to.

"The question here is," Adrian asked "if Winky didn't conjure the Dark Mark, who did?" They walked in silence for a few moments, not having an answer for that question, just theories.

"I bet you it was the Malfoys!" Ron exclaimed after a few moments.

"Don't accuse people for something that severe, Ron, just because you don't like them!" Mr. Weasley said, his voice stern.

"No, really!" Ron insisted. "Before we ran into Winky, we caught up with Draco Malfoy; he seemed out of breath and smirked when we asked if his parents were amongst the Death Eaters. He said that if they were, he wouldn't tell us!"

"Ron!" Arthur cautioned, silencing his son. Harry, on his part, didn't know what to think. Neither on the mystery person that had cast the Dark mark, nor on Draco Malfoy in specific. Cause if Draco was so fine and dandy with Death Eaters prowling around and the Dark Mark ascending, why had he cursed that Death Eater away from the Robinsons?

Because Harry had been certain it had been the youngest Malfoy he had seen. The ash blond hair and the dark blue robes were a dead giveaway. It just didn't make sense. He looked at Severus who was walking ahead of him, his demeanour pensive. The Death Eaters, the Dark Mark, the destruction he faced as they walked out of the forest and towards their, now crumbled, tents were the rest of their group were gathered. He could faintly hear James calling Adrian's name as he caught sight of them. Harry closed his eyes and run a hand through his hair.  _Nothing_  made sense.

 


	48. And The Axis Shifted

Meeting with the rest of their group had been… interesting, Harry thought, two days later as he stared at the starry sky. He had climbed in the astronomy tower at Silbreith two hours ago and had remained there for the past hour. The main objective had been to observe the constellations for a few minutes and do one last check at his Astronomy homework but the very moment he had stepped out that balcony, all thoughts of studying ha dispersed. It was a chilly night all things considered and there was a slight breeze reminiscent more of mid-autumn than late August. Still, the skies were clear and Harry hadn't even bothered to bring out his telescope. He had just leaned back on the cold stone and had let his body slide down the wall, eyes locked on the stars above, finally allowing himself to relax, his fingers clasping the letter he had received from Nagnok earlier that day in his pocket. He knew his father had taken a more destructive path in letting go of his frustrations and was probably in the process of pulverising a training dummy at the dungeons. With good reason, Harry mentally added.

The moment the little group had walked out of the woods two days ago, James had screamed Adrian's name and run towards his eldest son, checking to make sure the teen was unharmed; the hazel eyed boy had squirmed, mildly embarrassed at the display. Harry had just stood there, watching the scene unroll with detachment. 'Sure', he could remember himself thinking, 'it's not like I'm here bleeding or anything.' The boy sighed as he inwardly recounted the names of the stars he absentmindedly located in the night skies. To be fair, James had almost had a heart attack when, having stepped back a bit to get a better look at Adrian, his eyes had fallen on Harry. He had tried to move closer to check his younger son's wounds but Harry had just raised a hand in a gesture that clearly stated he was fine.

"It's just a scratch." Harry had assured the increasingly frantic auror. "I had to dodge out of the way of a spell, but I didn't get hit." He had then turned to look at Neville, concern clearly written in his face.

"Same here, Harry." Neville offered, rolling his eyes. "Told you so already."

"Because that will stop him from worrying." Severus muttered, looking at Neville in worry.

"Professor, really, I'm fine!" The boy complained.

"Like that will stop  _me_  from worrying!" The potions master stated, causing the brown eyed boy to go slack jawed and Harry to smile warmly at his father and brother.

"Adrian! Harry!" Lily's voice sounded over the ruckus. She looked at them wide eyed, her hair dishevelled; she had a scratch somewhere on her side since a few drops of blood marred her yellow shirt but other than that looked unharmed. She was still clenching her fingers around her wand. From what Harry could gather from the following conversation with Prongs, she had ordered Adrian to run towards the woods when a couple of Death Eaters had closed in on them so she could fight them off and had been unable to locate her eldest son since. "Merlin, Harry! Are you hurt? Where were you! Why didn't you follow us?"

"Just a scratch, really." Harry stated once more, closing his eyes and sighing deeply. He was still angry and confused and all he wanted was go home, drink some of that ridiculously good tea Severus had bought from Diagon Alley and think things through. He didn't seem like he was about to get his wish.

"Just a scratch?" Sirius exclaimed having just arrived, his eyes zeroing on his godson immediately. "Harry, you're bleeding!" His eyes then travelled to Neville and the still open gash on his cheek. "What happened to you two?"

"Death Eaters." Severus explained, moving closer to examine his son's and Neville's wounds. "They're not deep but you will not move an inch till I've healed them." Harry was about to protest, probably to say that Severus didn't need to bother or something equally ridiculous, but was quickly silenced by the potions master. "Not an inch, Harry!" The teen nodded as Severus cast the charm necessary, checking his work and moving to heal Neville once satisfied.

"Thanks, Sev."

"I could have done that!" James protested, while Severus ignored him. The potions master was doing his best not to just grab Harry and run. On second thought, he would probably take Neville away too. Death Eaters. What were Death Eaters doing at the World Cup? He knew it wasn't an honest attack, if he could call it that. Thirty or so Death Eaters against the Ministry officials that had gathered for the protection of the campers? Not something the Dark Lord would have chanced. Plus, they had disappeared the moment the Dark Mark ascended. Run away scared.

"I know you could have, Potter." The potions master stated. He didn't want to pick up a fight or contest his right to take care of his son. He just wanted a few quiet moments to think. " _Sanacio!_ " He pointed his wound over Neville's injury after cleaning it with a quick charm and watched as the skin stitched together, leaving no trace of any injury behind.

"Thank you, professor." Neville said, his hand touching the now healed expanse of skin on his face tentatively.

"Don't mention it, Neville."

"But how did you get injured?" Mr. Weasley asked, waving his hand so Remus, Molly and the rest of his family -who had been looking for them a few demolished tents further down- would spot them. "Weren't you at the forest?"

"We were going towards the forest." Harry admitted, looking swiftly at Severus for confirmation. The potions master nodded; no more hiding. "But then we caught sight of the Robinsons. So we helped." The stunned silence that followed his declaration was half expected. Neville flinched slightly in expectation of what would surely follow and Harry braced himself for the tirade. He would have rather avoided it, but he could see it in their eyes; it was coming alright!

"Why are you so silent?" Bill, who had just managed to reach them asked; he was slightly out of breath and dishevelled but didn't appeared to bear any injuries. His question however had shaken the assorted crowd out of their temporary trance.

"Harry James Potter!" Lily bellowed, her face pale as all blood abandoned it. "Did you willingly fight against a group of Death Eaters?" Her breathing was laboured and Harry could tell she was bordering on a panic attack.

"Lily, calm down." Severus said, trying his best to defuse a situation he already knew he couldn't save.

"Calm down?" Lily screeched, her eyes widening even more. "Harry fought against Death Eaters and you want me to calm down?"

"And where were you when he got injured?" James hissed, hazel eyes filled with anger and contempt.

"Right there, fighting against the Death Eaters next to me." Harry stated calmly. The shock in the air was palpable for everyone to feel. "So was Neville for that matter."

"Were else would I be?" The boy in question wondered out loud for everyone to hear.

"Still, Harry," James said, his voice slightly stunned but switching back to angry in a second, "you can't just run towards a group of crazed wizards that would have no qualms over killing you at the spot!" He then turned accusing eyes at Severus, not letting the subject drop. "And you!" He exclaimed, index finger pointing accusingly at the potions master. "You just let a teenager fight against the Death Eaters? What, missed your old buddies or something? Couldn't wait to see them again? Missed the excitement of playing for both teams?"

"Damn it, James!" Surprisingly, the exclamation had come from the usually reserved Remus, who eyed the potions master wearily. The Potter patriarch's comment seemed to have captured the attention of the whole group; Severus, surprisingly, was the one who took things the calmest. Even Sirius was looking at James in mild disbelief; no matter how much they had disliked Severus in the past, his time with the Death Eaters had been something they all knew about but had mutually agreed on never bringing up. Because, no matter how or why he had actually joined the Dark Lord, the man had ended up risking his life for over three years for the cause and, if Dumbledore was to be believed, had had a less than pleasant experience during his tenure as a double spy, still bearing the scars as a proof of his efforts to this day.

"Yes, I must admit that I had missed the complete terror of dying a painful death if I got caught spying for Dumbledore." Severus deadpanned his voice cold. He was boiling on the inside but was decided not to let his feelings show; the past was just that, the past, and he wouldn't allow anybody to drag him back there. "Thank you for reminding me." Harry was glaring daggers at Prongs while yet another stunned silence fell over their group.

"You were a spy during the first war, professor?" It was Neville that had spoken, a note of confusion colouring his voice.

"Yep!" Harry answered for his father, feeling proud looking back and seeing how far they had both come since those early days.

"A  _spy_?" There was no more confusion anymore, just an undertone of awe in the teen's voice, brown eyes widening at the revelation.

"It's not something I like to bring up." Severus stated. "It's not something I  _would_  have brought up -not really prudent to boast about it!- but it seems somebody wanted to share with the class." And he turned his passive gaze to James; the man's expression looked an odd mix between contrite and irked.

"Sorry, Severus." Lily said, on behalf of her husband. Her eyes had narrowed in a way that clearly stated she would be having  _words_  with James later on.

"Really though, professor?" George asked, looking at the potions master as if he had never seen him before and wondering how many more times that would happen in the future. Severus sighed; it seemed that if they didn't actually hear him confirm it himself they wouldn't believe it.

"Yes." Severus confirmed laconically. "But we're getting off subject."

" _Wicked_!" The twins exclaimed simultaneously; the majority of the group seemed to be in complete agreement over their last statement, especially those who had never been told what the potions master had exactly been doing during the war. Severus just shook his head in amusement and wondered how Dumbledore would react to James revealing his status as a spy for the Order in front of a group of teenagers.

"Still, I see no point to have allowed Harry to fight!" James carried on, reverting back to the original point of his rant. "You were supposed to be looking after him! And don't tell me it couldn't have been avoided!" He exclaimed even if Severus had shown no intent to interrupt him. "What difference could I make should he not have fought…" Looking back at that moment, Harry decided that Basil, Mr. Weasley's friend from the Ministry and whose last name Harry never did find out, couldn't have chosen a better moment to approach them, bringing along a distinguished looking wizard, dressed in a Muggle-style suit. The unknown wizard was tall and built, the facial characteristics on his dark skin schooled to complete neutrality; if Harry had to guess, he would peg him as an Unspeakable.

"There you are!" Basil exclaimed, his eyes wandering over their group only to land on Harry. "I've been looking everywhere for you!"

"Is there something wrong, Basil?" Arthur asked and then sighed. "Besides the obvious, I mean." The man's eyes turned back on Mr. Weasley for a moment before seeking out James.

"No. We just… We just found the Robinsons." The man explained looking at the presumed Unspeakable for confirmation; the man nodded once. A sense of dread filled Harry; he had been in a haste when he had left them, the Dark Mark capturing his attention but they had appeared fine. Still, looking fine and being fine where two different things altogether. His mind brought forth the image of the two terrified children he had seen cowering from the Death Eater and shivered; had something happened to them?

"Are they alright?" Molly asked, concern colouring her voice.

"Yeah." Basil offered distractedly and Harry's heart finally slowed down to a more reasonable rhythm. Nobody had died; thank Merlin!

"Then what?" Sirius asked, wondering what had been so important as to track them down and tell them immediately; James and himself would have been informed eventually after all.

"It's just…" His eyes strayed over to Harry, Severus and Neville who were standing close to each other and a bit further from the main group, lingering once again on the green eyed wizard.

"Just what?" Sirius persisted. "Out with it!" Basil nodded once jerkily at the authoritative tone the command had been made in.

"We had some Unspeakables to extract their memories of the attack before obliviating them. Oldman over here was one of them." He said pointing at the man standing next to him; so he was an Unspeakable after all. Huh. Meanwhile, the part of the group that worked in the Ministry nodded in understanding; it was standard procedure in such cases after all.

"And?" Arthur asked.

"Well…" The man seemed a bit unsure of how to proceed but, one bewildered look towards Harry later, got his grip back on his thoughts and continued. "It started as one would have expected; the Death Eaters woke them up with some curses and brought them out in the open to amuse themselves. Levitating them and such." Harry cringed at the memory. "And then, after the battle had started, the Robinsons saw a small group of wizards heading their way, taking down Death Eaters as they went." The small group of wizards in question exchanged glances. Neville resorted to a facepalm, Harry opted on staring at the sky that had just began turning the steely gray of dawn while Severus shrugged as if he faced Death Eaters every day. Well, at least he used to.

"You three?" Adrian asked, looking mostly at his twin.

"Well…" Harry started but it seemed that Basil was eager to keep narrating now that he had begun.

"And then Mr. Potter," he continued having his hand to indicate Harry "cast some sort of a spell to push the Death Eaters back -forgive me but I wasn't told which incantation you used, Mr. Potter…" As if hearing a Ministry official address him as 'Mr. Potter' wasn't strange enough, the Unspeakable only identified as Oldman decided to intervene.

"Maybe I should take it from here." He spoke in a strict tone, his voice unemotional, his air the personification of professionalism. Basil gulped and nodded, willingly stepping away from the limelight.

"Of course." He muttered and physically moved out of the way in his haste to comply, taking a short step backwards so that he actively positioned himself in the background. His eyes were still wide and excited; it was clear that he wanted to hear the story once more.

"Mr. Potter used a  _Terrae Legumina_  curse; it causes the earth to pulse and he caught the Death Eaters mid-stride, thus sending them a few feet backwards." The man was just making a clinical assessment of the situation, Harry knew as much. Still, hearing everything he had done the past hour made him feel accomplished and, most of all, lucky. Those Death Eaters had acted out of pure boredom, it seemed, and Harry could just go as far as saying they must have been slightly inebriated; he would have to run it by Severus later on, but the irrational way they acted pointed to that direction. They had simply been having to much fun at the World Cup and decided to end their night in the most spectacular way possible. And if they hadn't been at least partially drunk, none of their moves made sense; they  _had_  attacked a camp site filled with ministry personnel after all. And Harry knew, despite his training, one of the reasons why he hadn't acquired more wounds and bruises to show the world after fighting the Dark Lord's forces was because they had been surprised to be attacked by a fourteen-year-old and too disorientated to properly fight back.

"That's quite a hefty curse." Sirius announced, mostly talking to himself, bringing Harry's attention back to the present.

"Well, yes." Oldman stated dryly, barely looking at Sirius as he spoke. "The curse effectively cut their concentration and the spells they used to hold the Robinsons in the air. Mr. Longbottom assisted in getting them on the ground safely and moving them out of the way as fast as possible while Professor Snape held the Death Eaters back along with Mr. Potter…" The man carried on with his narration of the battle, explaining everything that had happened in the most effective way possible. "As you understand the rest of the fight we still only know due to witnesses as the Robinsons were ushered away at that point. We thought that was it when suddenly, looking through the Robinsons' memories, we came by one more interesting tidbit of information. Mr. Potter seems to have prevented a Death Eater from casting the killing curse on the Robinsons." Oldman stated, cocking an eyebrow in surprise or appreciation, Harry couldn't tell. Still, it was good to know the man was capable of emotions.

"He what?" James barked out, his face going paler by the second.

"Your son probably saved those Muggles' lives, Mr. Potter." The Unspeakable explained.

"Probably? Try  _definitely_!" Neville muttered under his breath, bringing a small smile to Harry's lips. The shocked faces around were what the green eyed had expected to see as well as the proud smile on Severus's face. Neville, the second exception from the stunned witches and wizards around, punched him softly on his uninjured shoulder.

"I believe this would be all." Oldman stated. "We just thought that since Mr. Harry Potter is a minor and you are his parents," he continued bowing his head slightly towards James and Lily, "you had to be notified. The memories acquired will become public property at the end of the investigation and can be viewed at the Ministry's archives, if you do so wish. Though misters Potter and Black will probably see them during the investigation anyway." And with another bow, vaguely appointed towards Harry, he turned around and left. Basil followed him after pausing to stare at Severus, Harry and Neville for one last time, muttering a hurried good night at the startled group and calling over his shoulder that he would talk to Mr. Weasley at the Ministry.

"It seems that me fighting made some difference." Harry stated simply, remembering what James had been trying to say before Basil had interrupted them.

"I'd say!" Neville exclaimed, hi-fiving his best friend. It wasn't hard for said best friend to see that Neville was trying to cheer him up, catching up on his anger still bubbling under the surface.

"You were great out there too, you know!" Harry reminded him, not willing to let Neville fade to the background.

"I was alright, I suppose." Neville offered, shrugging noncommittally.

"You were  _both_  great out there." Severus interjected, looking at both boys with a kind smile. "I would however prefer it if you didn't have to fight at all." The latest admission seemed to be mostly to himself; Harry elbowed him on the ribs playfully, in a subtle reminder that he was still there and in one piece. The potions master smiled but the worry didn't leave his eyes. The green eyed wizard knew that, even if Severus had accepted Harry would play a great role in the coming war and -hopefully- afterwards, he would have rather his son didn't have to face any of the dangers heading his way. His father had a protective streak a mile wide, Harry thought fondly.

"Still, Harry, that doesn't change the fact that you put your self in harm's way…" James continued, his pride over his son's doings battling with his worry and unwillingness to lose an argument.

"What was I supposed to do?" Harry countered in a would-be-calm voice. "You, Sirius, Remus and Mr. Weasley had run off to fight. Before you left you screamed for her to take Adrian and run; she did just that." The teen could tell that James was thinking back to what he had said and realizing his youngest son was telling the truth. "Mrs. Weasley left with her children and Hermione, Charlie and Bill staying back to fight and that left Nev, myself and Sev to do what exactly?"

"Harry, I…" James started, not knowing what he was supposed to say exactly.

"No, Prongs." Harry said, sounding resigned. "I get it. Just don't tell me I shouldn't have helped, especially when I knew I could. And I did." Neville felt like applauding but opted not to; he just shared a meaningful look with Severus and smirked. He decided to keep a tally in his mind; it was "Team Family" vs "Everybody else namely the Potters and the Dark Lord" -he needed to come up with a better name for the opposition- and Harry had just scored them one point.

"Look Harry, your father meant that you can't just charge blindly and hope you don't get hurt. You don't have an actual experience in dueling." Lily said, trying to squash her guilt; ' _Take Adrian and run!_ ' had been exactly what she had done.

"You're right." Harry admitted, running a hand over his eyes. "But that doesn't mean I can't defend myself of try to help others less able to protect themselves. You can't that of me." The silence that followed had been absolute, only the background noises easing the oppressing weight that had seemed to settle over everybody's heads. Two to zero and counting, Neville thought, breaking the silence asking whether he could contact his grandmother before she found out about the attack herself. Mr. Weasley had offered to help and Harry had sent him a grateful look as the boy walked by him. He could always count on Neville to watch his back.

The next two days had passed in a blur. Meetings had been held, both in Hogwarts and at the Ministry; there had been no result at all. It seemed that the Death Eaters had hoped for some fun -if anybody could characterize what they had done as such- and had jumped on the opportunity to do just that. All the while, the atmosphere at Potter Manor had been tense. Sirius and Remus hadn't stopped by since the morning after the attack. James and Lily, couldn't even look Harry in the eye while Adrian had seemed too shocked -awed, confused- to even speak to him. It had been a huge relieve when Dumbledore had called for the Potters at Hogwarts; the Headmaster had offered, for the first time, to include Harry in the conversation but the boy had kindly declined. It wasn't his place to be there anymore and he couldn't find himself wanting to. Instead, he had asked if he could spend the night at Silbreith. James had been reluctant while Dumbledore insisted it might be for the best. Harry didn't even bother to wonder why the Headmaster had given up that easily.

And so, he had found himself home, finally, after two days of feeling caged in his ancestral house. Severus, accepting Harry's want and need to be left alone with his thoughts, had agreed to let him work on his astronomy project, knowing fully well the teen would be unable to concentrate. And Harry had climbed the stairs to the highest tower, trying his best to put his thoughts into order.

First things first, he was worried about how his family was taking everything in. James seemed less and less willing to consent to have Harry spend time at Silbreth, still adamant on his futile attempt to bond with his youngest son. And after the events at the World Cup, he had been even more determined to keep Harry at Potter Manor and away from Severus, even if he still haven't put his intentions to words.

Lily had been trying to get to know her son better too, asking him questions he didn't feel like answering, questions for which the answers she should have already known. She seemed to have been trying to be subtle at her approach, but every question cut a little deeper, until Harry felt the need to run. He shouldn't have to answer her questions. It was his life and his mother should have been there, by his side, if she wanted to be worthy of what she wanted to know. Over the years the rift that had first appeared when Harry was still a toddler had turned into a chasm, broadening and deepening with every question left unasked, every moment in his life that had gone unseen by his family. Harry no longer knew what to say to make things better; he didn't even know if he was willing to try.

Still, the fact remained; chasm or no chasm, his parents had the power to dictate his actions until he turned seventeen. If they wanted to keep him away from Silbreith, they could do just that and Harry would have been bound to listen to them, his blood bounding him to his father's will and his ancestral house. James could ground him, give him a strict order to not leave the Manor for Silbreith and his own blood would force him to obey. It was an old blood ritual, strong and ancient, that had been woven into the laws of the wizarding world since the moment they had been put to paper. Harry banged his head against the wall behind him; how could his blood direct his life like this? He felt trapped.

Could there be a way out of this? He knew that, even if magic had acknowledged Severus as his father, he was still a Potter to the law. And an underage Potter at that. In three years the power of the blood ritual would be null and void as he would enter adulthood. But with an impending war, three years was too long to wait.

He heard footsteps on the staircase and sighed, waiting for his father to announce his presence. He had wanted to talk to him about his thoughts, but he would have preferred to put them in line first. He didn't seem to quite succeed, so maybe he could just trust his father to help him sort everything out.

"Found an answer to whatever this is that's been troubling you yet?" Severus asked, seating next to his son on the floor and handling him a cup of warm chocolate. Harry smiled and took the offered beverage. Severus had tried to act confident and carefree but the dark circles under his eyes gave away the troubling thoughts he had tried not to burden his son with.

"No." Harry admitted. "But I have at least managed to pin point the most serious problem at the moment. That's something I guess."

"And what would that problem be?"

"That should Prongs want it to be so, he can order me away from Silbreith during the holidays." Harry stated sighing. "It's his right as head of the Potter line and will keep being his right as long as I'm underage. It's a little miracle he hasn't decided to do so just yet. I was certain he would have objected me coming over today, but Dumbledore seemed to want to speak to him and my mother in private. Still, his dislike of you has increased exponentially -because how dare you steal his son away!- and his discomfort with me spending time around you has only followed the same pattern."

"I see." Severus said; he had been thinking around the same line himself for the past two days. Between worrying about Harry's wellbeing and how it could be threatened in the coming war and simply wanting to lock his son in Silbreith and never letting out, it had occurred to him that James had the power to do just that. Order Harry to stay away from Silbreith until the boy reached adulthood. Severus was no blood relation and, should the head of Harry's family decide it to be so, he could forbid him from seeing him outside school at any given time.

"I don't know what to do." Harry admitted, before correcting himself. "Well, I  _might_  have a solution but it's rather… radical."

"Radical?" Severus asked, his attention immediately claimed by said solution.

"Yes." Harry offered. "It's something Nagnok said, when I handed him the blueprints of the new Firebolt on my birthday. He said that, now that my parents were fully aware of my financial dealings, they had the power to intervene. The goblins seem to dislike that thought almost as much as I do; I've worked hard for that money and the mere thought that someone other than me can decide what to do with my business earnings doesn't sit well with me. Even if I know my family would probably never even consider it, it's the principle of the thing."

"I understand." Severus stated, understanding much more than Harry let on. He fully well knew that this wasn't about money at all. It was about Harry having achieved something of his own, away from his family's influence; finding out that even that part of his life could be affected by the Potters hurt cut deeper than he wanted to consider.

"He said there was a way to make certain I would be the sole master of my accounts and offered to make the arrangements necessary. I said that I would think about it but, with everything that has happened since, it simply slipped my mind. Yesterday however, while I was trying to avoid my mother who seemed intent on knowing everything she didn't care to find out in the past fourteen years and Prongs who suddenly remembered Adrian has a twin…" Severus detected the bitterness in his son's voice but, seeing how he was entitled to feel bitter, let it slide "I remembered what Nagnok had said. So I sent him a letter to enquire about what exactly it was that he suggested I should do." The teen pulled a letter out his pocket and handed it to Severus. "He wrote back this morning." The potions master frowned in confusion as he unfolded the letter and started reading. His eyes got wider after each line; it was only a short letter and to the point, but Harry was right; it was radical.

"An Emancipation ritual?" The potions master asked. "Are you sure, Harry?"

"I can't see any other way around this!" The boy exclaimed, his head coming to rest over his knees. "Nagnok said they're mostly used for sixteen year old wizards that need to get hold of their assets and affairs in case of a death in the family but what can I do? Being legally and adult will solve all the problems that my family may cause and my fortune is, mercifully, large enough to warrant it."

"So you're saying that you want to go through with this? Use your fortune as a scapegoat and free yourself of any obligation towards the head of your family?" Severus asked; Harry seemed to have put quite some thought into this.

"Honestly? Yes." The teen admitted, green eyes shining with determination. "This is the perfect way out, if you think about it. I mean, in all technicality, it's a financially motivated decision. So, all that the law demands is that the head of the minor's family gives permission for the minor to have their own vault and for the minor to prove they have the financial means not only to survive but to warrant the ritual in the first place. Despite the fact that I'm younger than most wizards that ever completed the ritual, I'm an ideal candidate." Severus looked between the letter in his hands and his son for a few moments before chuckling.

"Using your fortune to achieve your goals without threatening a soul or actually spending a knut. Very Slytherin of you, Harry!" The boy paused and looked at his father shocked for a second before chuckling along.

"You raised me right, I have told you as much before." The boy simply stated. Severus smirked and tousled his son's hair as the boy protested.

"I must admit, you turned out great." Severus threw back flippantly. "So, when are you going through with this?"

"In three days' time when we visit Diagon Alley for school related purchases; the actual ritual requires nothing more than two witnesses -a wizard or witch and a goblin- my signature, a few drops of blood and the official seal of Gringotts."

"Can't James contest it? Stop you from going through with it?" Harry shook his head negatively.

"The only way to do that would have been having protested me getting a personal vault or disallowing me to find a job; I have the vault already along with his written permission to pursue a career. It's out of his hands right now."

"You have truly thought this through." Severus noted.

"I have." Harry admitted. "And I'm having Nagnok over to the Potter Manor tomorrow to talk to my parents; he seems loath to have them interfere with my account plus, the two of us are swiftly becoming two of Gringotts' favorite clients. He'll properly stress the need to have me in control of my finances and I have every trust in goblin logic to help me convince them that this is the best course of action. I will, of course, fail to remind them that they will be unable to dictate my life as they could were I a minor and at this point I'm not even above playing a guilt card. I don't want them interfering, Dad. They've lost that right, I think." Harry had whispered the last few words but Severus still saw them for what they were; the last remnants of a child's hope that he could gain his family's acceptance vanished.

"I will help you, Harry, if that's what you really want." Severus offered, wrapping a hand around his son's shoulders and pulling the teen near.

"You're my family, Dad. You and now Nev and here's where I belong." Severus closed his eyes and nodded, fighting away his tears as he pulled his son closer and enveloped him in a proper hug.

"I know, son. I know."

 


	49. No Fate But What We Make

The next morning had dawned just as chilly as the night before and all evidence pointed a downpour was imminent. Harry wished with all his might that the weather wasn't a warning of things to come. He had received a letter from Nagnok over breakfast with which the goblin informed him that he would be arriving this very evening to broach the subject of the Emancipation ritual to the Potters. That meant Harry would have to return to Potter Manor for the evening -and probably stay there till the ritual itself.

"Are you sure you don't want me to tag along?" Severus finally asked after trying to suppress his protective instincts for the past hour since Harry had received Nagnok's letter. Harry shook his head negatively.

"It's not a matter of my not wanting you there, Dad. You know that if I had a say in this you'd be right there through it all." The potions master nodded, already knowing what Harry would say next. "But Prongs is much less likely to cooperate if you're there. It's going to be a close call as it is."

"I know, Harry." Severus stated, swirling the tea in his cup, contemplating. "I just can't help wanting to be there for you. It's almost unnatural letting you do this alone, even if I know you can handle it." Looking at the amused sparkle in his son's eyes at his semi-frantic declaration, he hastened to exclaim; "I know it doesn't make sense, okay?"

"You're just worried. Let's call it a father's prerogative?" Severus sighed but couldn't help a soft smile from forming on his lips. It  _was_  his prerogative to worry over his son after all. He would just  _love_  to see someone try and contest that! They would never find the unlucky sod's pieces no matter how hard they tried.

"Just promise you'll write the moment Nagnok leaves." Severus persisted. "Even if it's something short, like 'It all went well' or 'Come get me out of here', alright?"

"Alright, alright; I promise." Harry conceded, smiling at his father's antics.

"I have the distinct impression that you're mocking me," Severus stated, huffing in mock superiority "but I'll let it slide in light of current events, young man!" Harry was still laughing when Minnie appeared, holding a letter in her hands; apparently, Neville had guessed he would be at Silbreith and had written to him.

"Nagnok forgot something?" Severus asked, looking at Harry over his Daily Prophet; the attack at the World Cup was still all that appeared on the papers -well if one excepted the Quibbler, that is; they were publishing a new theory on the origins of Narggles- and, even if the investigation wasn't over yet, there had been some rumors about him and Harry fighting against the Death Eaters. Apparently, some Hogwarts students had even noticed Neville and had recognized him, so the boy was mentioned too, in passing, as said rumors had been turned into articles.

"No, it's from Nev, actually." Well, speak of the devil! Severus thought as he put down the newspaper completely; Augusta Longbottom would have definitely read those articles herself. Maybe that was why Neville had decided to write? He hoped she hadn't caused Neville any trouble; the boy was practically family to Harry and, he had to admit, had managed to slither his way into the small group of people the potions master considered family too. That group of people previously having been only Harry, Alfie and Minnie -those two house elves had almost adopted him and his son, he had resigned himself to that fact ages ago- meant that finding himself with a boy that had started to classify as an honorary nephew was quite the shock.

"So, what does he write?" Severus asked. "I hope his grandmother isn't causing him any trouble."

"Quite the contrary." Harry stated, a small smirk appearing on his face.

"How so?"

"Apparently she was so happy Neville started, and I quote,  _"following the steps of his father"_  that she doubled his monthly allowance." Then the teen chuckled once, loudly, grin eyes twinkling mischievously.

"What?" Severus inquired, smiling a bit himself by proxy, even though he had no idea what Harry had just read.

"Apparently I'm not the only Gryffindor acting all Slytherin-like lately!" Harry exclaimed in the place of an explanation.

"Good to see I'm influencing the new generation." The potions master stated, causing Harry to roll his eyes at his father's antics.

"But of course you are."

"And how did my influence caused yet another Gryffindor to join the Dark Side?" Severus asked, assumed haughtiness colouring his voice.

"You're so full of it." Harry mumbled, his spirits improving at his father's theatricalities. "Anyway, as I was saying, Nev decided to broach the subject of his wand to her." The green eyed teen explained as Severus listened in interest.

"What did he say exactly?"

"He may or may not have mentioned that you expressed your opinion on how his father's wand might not allow him to reach his full potential." Severus chuckled once.

"That's not even a lie, you know." The potions master admitted after a few seconds of deliberation. "I did say that, just a year and a half ago."

"Exactly." Harry agreed smirking. "Nev said he explained to her that, though his father was an Auror and thus he didn't question his wand was of the best quality, his mother was an Auror too; he reminded her how he, being a combination of the two, should probably have a wand that represents that."

"Neville has been spending too much time with you." Severus interjected, amusement clear in his voice.

"Finally, he told her that, should he cross paths with the Death Eaters again, he would need a wand that would allow respond too him perfectly." Harry chuckled as he read the last paragraph of the letter. "Apparently, his grandmother was so proud he intends to keep fighting against the Death Eaters that she not only agreed to give him money for a new wand, but allowed him to buy it alone, the day we'll meet for out school supplies in Diagon Alley. Because, as he put it, if he's old enough to fight against the Death Eaters, he's old enough to buy a wand on his own." Harry was full out chuckling at that point. "Maybe he  _is_  spending too much time with me." He conceded.

"Oh well, good for Neville; remind me to award him five points for something inconsequential once the term begins." Harry nodded, still smiling. If Neville had managed to persuade his grandmother that easily, maybe there was hope for him too.

Three hours later, Harry bid Severus goodbye and flooed over to Potter mansion. He had asked his parents to be there, only informing them via letter it would be for something of great importance. Even if he had asked them to be waiting for him, he couldn't help but feel mildly surprised when he stepped out of the fireplace and found both his parents expecting his arrival. 'There's a first time for everything, I suppose,' Harry thought as his mother rose from the couch to greet him.

"Good morning, Harry!" Lily exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her youngest son. "We missed you!" More like you missed my whole life, Harry commented internally, while resisting rolling his eyes. They had barely been around to see him grow up but now that they had figured out they might have been pushing him away?  _Now_  they missed him.

"Your mother is right you know." James stated. "You should be at home during the holidays." Harry fumed; he really didn't want to snap at them. Not that day of all days. So he swallowed his anger down.

"I usually  _am_  home during the holidays." Okay, Harry amended, he  _partially_  swallowed his anger down. But he couldn't help that little jab; Silbreith was home.

"We just haven't seen you much this summer." Lily explained, looking at her husband in a way that stated he should let her handle the conversation. This summer? Harry thought.  _This_  summer?

"I actually think we've seen more of each other during this summer than we did the last one." Harry commented with a wide and wholly fake smile instead of laughing out loud as he wished. Lily seemed taken aback by his statement and guilt played over her face for a moment before she schooled her expression back to a welcoming smile. Harry smiled back once more and went to seat at the couch waiting for his parents to follow his example. He watched as Lily shot yet another glance at James, a silent conversation seemingly taking place before his eyes. Prongs nodded once and Harry stifled a sigh; it seemed his parents had decided to team up in their efforts to know him better. Still, he remembered that small flash of guilt on his mother's face. He could use that, should things come to that; he'd hate to do it, but the more he talked to his parents, the more he realized they fully intended to be actively involved in his life from that moment on.

"Well, we can do more than that!" James exclaimed as Lily sat next to him on the couch opposite the one Harry was seated on. "What do you say we play some Quidditch this afternoon; just you and I?" If it'll help you agree on the Emancipation Ritual, the green eyed teen thought, weighing his options, then sure.

"Why not?" The teen answered, shrugging his shoulders. James seemed satisfied with himself and honestly happy that his son had accepted while Lily's smile finally reached her eyes. All that rang through Harry's mind was one single phrase;  _too little, too late_. "Where's Adrian by the way?"

"He's at the Weasleys'." Lily explained.

"We thought we could spend some time alone with you." James added, making Harry inwardly cringe; this was getting more and more awkward by the second. He wished Nagnok would come over soon. "So, what did you want to talk to us about? Is it about school?" Mercifully James had steered the conversation away from the more uncomfortable topics himself.

"No, it's not about school." Harry explained, causing his parents to share a confused look.

"Whatever it is, Harry, you can tell us." Lily stated; the boy nodded once.

"That's what this talk is about." He looked at the grandfather clock by the fireplace. Nagnok would be there in five short minutes. He had just enough time to prepare his parents for what they were about to hear. "It's not about school; the reason why I wanted to talk to you is more of a financial nature." The confusion only intensified.

"Are you asking for an increase in your monthly allowance?" James asked, eyeing his son carefully. "Because we could work something out…" Harry laughed once at James' reaction.

"Prongs, for one, you're not giving me a monthly allowance. You haven't since I was nine." James looked at Lily shocked, and she nodded in agreement, her eyes downcast.

"But Adrian…"

"Adrian has a monthly allowance," Harry agreed, having seen the pouch his brother brought with him at school to last him over the term, "because he needs one. I haven't needed one for over a year." The shock was now directed to him. "I'm rich, you know." Harry explained.

"Well, our family is well off but…" James started while Lily gasped understanding what her son meant. Neither she, nor James had ever truly stopped to think what being the creator of the Firebolt stood for.

"I mean that I'm  _independently_  rich, Prongs." Harry explained, chuckling once as the confusion in James' eyes was replaced by startled realization. "I'm the creator of the Firebolt; the paycheck I got for my very first design alone would have been enough to cover my personal expenses till I come of age. Then there is the fact that I gain a hefty amount out of every Firebolt sold. I'm also the co-creator of memory spheres. And Nagnok makes certain my earnings are invested properly, I assure you." His declaration had left his parents speechless. "And that's what I wanted to talk about today."

"You fortune?" Lily asked, her voice higher than usual.

"In a sense." Harry agreed, nodding. "Nagnok should be here any minute to help me explain. Just promise me you will listen to him before jumping to any conclusions. This is something that will help me; it will help me a lot."

"So, it's nothing bad?" James asked, clearing his throat.

"No, not yet." Harry offered cryptically. "But it's an issue that could come and bite me in the behind if it's not dealt with now."

"Investment issues?" Lily asked. "Are you losing money?"

"No, quite the contrary." Harry explained, trying to highlight the financial aspect of the issue at hand. "And, surprisingly, that's the problem." The flames in the fireplace turned green as Nagnok stepped out and not a moment too soon, Harry figured. His financial advisor was once more dressed impeccably, his round glasses perched onto his crooked nose. Harry rose to greet him, exchanging the customary pleasantries.

"Mr. Potter, your manners are always impeccable." The goblin stated as Harry led him towards the armchair in between the two couches he and his parents occupied, facing the fireplace.

"Nagnok-nür, my manners are only such as my guest inspires." Harry answered, knowing fully well how goblins appreciated respect, especially coming from a wizard.

"As I said, impeccable." The goblin insisted, black eyes shining with mirth, a wide, satisfied smile full of pointy teeth gracing his face.

"Allow me to introduce you my parents." Harry stated, pointing at the two other Potters in the room.

"Mrs. Potter, Mr. Potter." Nagonk greeted them, a curt bow punctuating his words.

"Mr. Nagnok." James greeted the goblin in a startled tone. The goblin in question sneered imperceptivity at the term 'mister' -one his race believed was only to be used for wizards- instead of the more appropriate goblin term. Not commenting further on the subject, he sat on the armchair and wasted no time beating around the bush.

"I suppose you know the main reason why I'm here."

"I gave them the main idea," Harry intervened "but I didn't want to start going into specifics without you here, Nagnok-nür. I have to admit this surpasses my area of expertise."

"A prudent move, Mr. Potter." The goblin stated, clearly pleased.

"Would you mind explaining, sir?" Lily asked, fidgeting a little; she didn't like not knowing what was happening around her, especially if it somehow affected her family. And the realization of not knowing what was happening to her youngest son's life had hit her like a ton of bricks; she would rather not have another thing happening she wasn't aware of.

"Not at all, madam." Nagnok assured her. "That's why I'm here." He leaned back on the armchair and looked at the older Potters speculatively. "You are aware that I am your youngest son's financial advisor." He stated matter-of-factly.

"Yes, we are." James offered.

"I'll try to keep this simple; your son's fortune is great, especially for a wizard his age." Harry tried to fight a blush he just knew was coming down; it wouldn't do at all to blush in front of a goblin, especially not his financial advisor! "And it's only increasing as the time passes. That, of course, attracts problems."

"What type of problems, Mr. Nagnok?" James asked, his eyes shifting from the goblin to his son and back.

"To once again put it simply, your son is a minor. That means that he does not have complete control over his assets yet. That privilege falls to you, his appointed guardians till he comes of age. Still, since the money is on your son's name, not even you have free rein over young Mr. Potter's fortune."

"What do you mean exactly?" Lily asked, confused by where this conversation was headed.

"What Nagnok is trying to say, Mom, is that, as long as I'm a minor with an account under my name, all the money in that account are, essentially, unprotected." Harry explained.

"Unprotected?" James asked, looking at his son in confusion. "How? Your money is in Gringotts after all!"

"That might be, Mr. Potter, but its physical presence in Griggots alone does not guarantee its security." Nagnok continued. "Having someone accumulate such a great fortune in such a young age is not common. It saddens me to say that neither Gringgots nor the Ministry have provided a way to protect such a fortune." He looked at the still befuddled faces on the couch left to him and sighed. "Look at it this way; your son only has a specific amount of power over his assets, correct? He can access them, withdraw to a certain extent and deposit but he can not invest anything should you wish him not to. He might lose control of his account completely with one single word from you, Mr. Potter, and you are able to access his account and withdraw as much money as you wish."

"I would never do that!" James exclaimed insulted.

"I know, Prongs." Harry assured him. "Nagnok is just explaining what may happen to my account as long as things are left as they are. And that's not all."

"As you son stated, Mr. Potter," Nagnok continued without apologizing to the still fuming James, "there's more to this issue than you have heard so far. There are others that might have their eyes set on young Mr. Potter's fortune."

"Snape!" James seethed, looking at Harry through narrowed eyes. "I knew we couldn't trust Snivellus…"  
"Sev is not the problem!" Harry exclaimed, his voice cold as he glared at Prongs. He couldn't believe how swiftly James was ready to accuse his father of everything bad that happened. "I asked you to listen before you jump to conclusions." Prongs seemed anxious to add something more but his son's hard gaze betrayed how much the teen didn't want to hear it. And just like that, James Potter finally realized he might just be out of his depth.

"As young Mr. Potter said," Nagnok stated, looking at the oldest Potter disdainfully, "Mr. Severus Snape is not the problem. I first approached Mr. Snape with this issue when the contract for the creation of the memory spheres was signed and he immediately agreed to sign off any claim he might have had over your son's fortune. I can procure his waiver, signed and all, at any given moment, should you wish to see it. Mr. Snape has made it quite clear, verbally and legally, that he has no intention to touch a knut of your son's fortune." At that, James fell silent, all anger leaving him.

"Please continue." Lily stated, her own green eyes turned at the carpet. Harry on his side, mentally made arrangements for an extra bonus for his financial advisor later on; the goblin had earned every galleon he had ever paid him in his book.

"As I was saying, there's more to this problem than you understand; your son has a contact with Nimbus Co. There are people in that company that would not hesitate to sunk their teeth into your son's account. And, as long as his fortune remains tied to yours the fact remains that it is left vulnerable against any middle man that wishes to take a good chunk out of it."

"What Nagnok is saying," Harry continued, "is that, though this is my fortune, money that I've worked hard for, I have no control over it. I can invest as long as you allow me to. I can withdraw the minimum amount possible. And every contract I sign has terms damaging to me as, no matter how hard I work, every contract is still one signed between a company and a minor; did you know that my original contract with Nimbus had a specific clause that said I would have no say where the broomsticks I designed were distributed seeing as that would be considered as an indirect investment? Without this clause, should you decide to disallow me from investing my money,  _you_  would have a say over where the Firebolts are sold. The company didn't want that and, as such, I have no say over where a product I designed is being sold. As it is, I can't even check to see their logs; they might be cheating me out of my earnings as far as I know. I lose money even as I earn them, if you understand what I mean." That part was actually true, Harry realized as he looked at his parents. He had just never cared that much, seeing how his vault was overflowing with gold. Plus, it was highly unlikely Nagnok would let something major happen; his parents though didn't need to know that. The goblin's smirk clearly stated that he agreed with Harry's reasoning.

"We had no idea. Harry." James stated, sharing a look with Lily.

"Is there something we can do?" Lily asked, looking at Nagnok in earnest. "We could waiver our claim over Harry's fortune, should that help." She offered. Here we go, Harry thought, mentally preparing himself for the blast.

"Relinquishing your claim over your son's fortune will not help." Nagnok explained. "If anything, it will leave his fortune completely bereft of any adult supervision." The goblin stated, bringing the conversation where he needed it to go.

"Then what can we do?" James asked confused.

"There is a way to resolve this once and for all." Nagnok offered. "Any problems young Mr. Potter is facing right now will be resolved the very moment he turns seventeen, meaning upon his entrance into adulthood."

"So you're saying we can help keep Harry's fortune safe until he turns seventeen?" Lily asked. "We'll help any way we can!" Even though Harry appreciated the sentiment, he well knew that his mother would probably change her mind the moment Nagnok made his proposal.

"Not exactly." The teen intervened. "The only way to keep my fortune safe from any malevolent interference would be freezing my account till I turned seventeen; all and any earnings I would have from now on would go to the family account while I would be unable to touch them or anything I have already earned and saved in my personal vault. I would rather avoid such an outcome."

"Then what can we do?" James wondered. "If the law forbids a minor from taking control of his fortune, what could you have to propose?" He asked, looking at Nagnok. "Change the law?"

"No." The goblin said. "The law is written with and bound by magic. Wards would have to be taken down, the Ministry would have to get involved in the inner workings of Gringgots -something we have avoided for the past few centuries- and the whole process would still take years. Thus, no, the law can not be changed."

"Then?" James urged him on.

"We can not change the law that demands young Mr. Potter to be an adult to have complete control over his account. So, we will change Mr. Potter so that he will meet the law's requirements."

"What are you suggesting, goblin?" James asked, his eyes narrowing, his tone menacing. Nagnok seemed unfazed.

"An Emancipation Ritual, I believe, is in order." The stunned silence that followed his statement didn't last for more than two seconds.

"A  _what_?" James seethed, jumping up from his seat, glaring at the still calm goblin. "Say that again!"

"My son is fourteen!" Lily exclaimed, her voice angry. "You can't ask that of him! Just because you want to keep handling his account!" That got Harry's attention; the teen had imagined his parents would be unwilling to let him go through with the ritual -which parent willingly allows their fourteen year old son to become an adult, especially while they're trying to reconnect with him- but having them suggest that his actions were dictated by someone else? That his thoughts weren't his own? That he wouldn't stand for!

"This is preposterous!" James added, gesticulating wildly, his eyes focused on the goblin in front of him. "Who put you up to this?"

" _I did!_ " Harry stated. He didn't yell but his voice was strong and decisive; it wasn't something his parents had expected of him and was definitely enough to give them pause.

"What?" Lily asked bewildered, her eyes now focused on her younger son. James turned to face Harry two, his hazel eyes wide with shock.

"Harry!" He exclaimed, approaching his son with uncertainty. "Have you lost your mind? You're only fourteen! If someone is forcing you to do this…"

"No, Prongs." Harry stated simply, standing up and looking at James unwaveringly. "I know you haven't been around me much during the past few years, so I won't expect you to understand just what this means to me. This account isn't just money. It's what I have spent the last three years of my life working for." And it was more, so much more; it was his chance to never feel afraid that he would be forced away from his true family. It was his one chance to fully dictate his own actions during the coming war. It was freedom, as much as he could grasp at the time being. And he wouldn't give up on that.

"Harry…" Lily began, her voice wavering at her son's statements.

"Please, listen to me." Harry interrupted her, breathing deeply, trying his hardest not to start yelling; anger wouldn't get him anywhere, no matter how righteous. "Do you have any idea how difficult it is to design a racing broom? What, you think you carve a broom, cast a few spells and _presto_ , you're done? It took me a whole year to get the design to work; twelve failed attempts. Countless hours of research to get every spell right! I had to redesign the whole braking system; I created a whole new variation of a spell for it! I worked so hard on the arithmological aspect of the whole design, I'm eligible for an early OWL on the subject. It might not mean much to you, but I have worked hard for this."

"Harry, we didn't say that…" James started speaking but Harry wouldn't stand to be interrupted.

"I've only asked you for one other thing in my whole life and that was for your permission to  _work_! All I wanted was to do something I knew I was good at. I wanted all my hard work to be recognized; in the beginning all I could do was hope and believe that what I had designed was good. And I believed it and I was right. And my work did get recognized!" Harry wanted to say more. He wanted to tell them how Severus had helped, remind them that they were never there, that they didn't even know he had designed the Firebolt until they found out from the newspapers along with the rest of the country. Tell them that they knew  _nothing_  about him. But this wasn't the time; he needed their approval for one last thing. And then he would be free.

"Harry this is too much." James stated, his voice holding much less certainty now than it had a few moments ago. "You're only fourteen! Do you have any idea what it means to be an adult?" Harry shut his eyes and breathed in and out carefully. He had known what it was like to be an adult since he was eleven. Since that day he had decided to take a life to save his twin. And life had taken a toll on his soul ever since.

"Emancipation means I will be  _legally_  and adult. I have a job. I can support myself if needed be." Harry said, his words chosen carefully. "But I'm only doing this to keep what I have strived for safe. I'll still be fourteen. I'll still go to school. I'm going to be exactly the same, don't you see? I just won't be afraid that everything I've worked for could be taken from me while I'm not looking. Nothing else has to change!" He could see his parents were thinking what he had said. In a way, what he had told them was the truth; everything would be the same and yet not. He would still be the same Harry; he just wouldn't have to fear he would be cut off from his own life due to a whim.

"Are you sure this is what you want?" It was close, so close he could taste it! James' words confirmed that. Maybe it was time for that guilt trip. The final nail in the coffin.

"Look, I could have done this without telling you; all that's required is a written permit from the head of my family that states I'm allowed to work, proof that what I earn can sustain me, a vault of my own, a witness and a few drops of blood. I have everything that I need. I could have done this without telling you." Harry repeated, watching their eyes widen. The fact that he was terrified James would have retracted his permission was yet another fact they didn't have to know.

"Does this matter so much to you?" Lily asked, her eyes watering.

"Wouldn't it mean much to you, were you in my place?" Harry deadpanned, his expression soft. On the inside, he was praying to whomever might listen that they would agree.

"In that case…" Lily said, looking at James who sighed but nodded in defeat. He could see that, if he didn't agree with Harry on this, if he didn't allow him that one thing he asked, Harry would do it anyway; he would find a way.

"Fine, yes." James mumbled. The grin that spread on Harry's face this time was real. They had agreed!  _They had agreed!_  He was just two short days away from being independent. He ran forward and hugged his parents in glee, wondering for just a second how would his life have been had they chosen to pay just a little more attention to him. Then his father's laughter rang in his ears, his mind flashing to the day Severus had announced he had gotten rid of his Dark Mark. And he realized once more that he wouldn't trade his life for nothing in the world; he was Harry James Potter of Silbreith, son of Severus Snape, brother of Neville Longbottom. And he was finally close to truly being his own man.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Nagnok informed them of when exactly they should arrive at Gringgots in two days time and left. Not however before mentioning to Harry in Gobbledygook that, should he be unable to decided what he wanted to do after Hogwarts, he could always work as an agent for Gringgots; apparently he had closing deals into his blood, or so the goblin insisted. Harry had laughed and replied that, if nothing else, it would keep life interesting.

He found the time after lunch to send a short letter to Severus telling him what happened and one to Neville that was a tad longer and asked him to meet at Diagon Alley in two days time. Adrian returned at the mansion early in the afternoon; Harry opted to be the one to tell him about the ritual. His brother had stared at him for a few long moments before congratulating him; this time, Harry realized Adrian's smile was forced. The hazel eyed twin's bad mood lasted all through that day -even during the Quidditch practice Harry had promised James- and the next one, worsening on the morning Harry was set to go through with the ritual.

It was seven in the morning and Harry, for the first time in his life, had taken the time to think what he would wear through. He had never felt the need to wear anything that formal before, but then again this day would only happen once. So he smiled and looked at his reflection in the mirror. Charcoal grey pants and vest with a matching cloak. A crisp white shirt and a dark green tie with a silver pin shaped like a wolf's head. Silver and emerald cufflinks and the pocket watch Neville had gotten him for his birthday. This was it.

"Good morning, everyone!" He called as he climbed down the stairs to the living room. His parents were there along with Adrian, Sirius and Remus were seated near the fireplace while Dumbledore stood next them. Their confused glances once they noticed his choice of clothes were obvious for all to see. Harry shrugged it off and approached them in a few swift strides. It was almost time to go.

"Good morning, Harry." Dumbledore said, nodding once, an unidentifiable expression on his face. For once, Harry didn't care; he just wanted to get through this as fast as possible. "Are you ready?"

"Yes, professor. I believe I am." The teen stated, his smile wide as he looked at the lit fireplace.

"I can't really believe you're doing this," Sirius stated walking closer to his godson, "but I get why you'd want to. I'm proud of you, kiddo." If possible, Harry's smile widened. "Apparently, you're rich enough for the goblins to want to make sure they won't lose you as a client." At that Harry had to laugh.

"Well, it would seem they're not very fond of the idea." The teen admitted; he would give Nagnok a huge bonus for this, he promised once more. His parents made sure everything and everyone needed was present and stepped into the fireplace one by one. Harry was ready to follow their example when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked back to make sure even if he already knew whom it belonged to; he had wondered when Dumbledore would choose to speak to him about what he was about to do.

"I would like to talk to Harry for a few moments, if you'd please." He told Remus and Sirius, the two other remaining people of their group still at the manor. The two wizards nodded as Harry sighed; he was being delayed.

"Professor." The teen greeted his Headmaster once more, green eyes meeting blue.

"Harry." Albus greeted back. "I must admit, when your parents told me you were planning on undergoing an Emancipation Ritual, I was more than surprised. Have you truly thought this through?" Harry sighed and smiled sadly. Did everybody think he was going through this blindly? And why did he owe the Headmaster of all people an explanation? The only thing Dumbledore had done that he was grateful for was making sure Severus was the one that would look after him when he was a baby. But even that had been done purely out of luck and Albus had since then been overjoyed to wash his wands off both Harry and Severus.

"Yes, I am."

"This isn't truly about the money though, is it?" The Headmaster asked, his eyes boring holes into Harry's head. The green eyed wizard took a moment to affirm his Occlumency shields were in place and that his mind wasn't under attack before answering; honestly he didn't want to, but he knew that Dumbledore would never let the subject drop otherwise.

"Of course not." He answered, looking towards the fireplace once more. "The money just comes with it. It's just…" He turned back towards Dumbledore, opting in telling him at least past of the truth. "Honestly they could melt down all the coins in my vault if they wanted. But I've worked hard on the Firebolt. I've worked just as hard on the memory spheres. I don't want somebody else to take credit of that hard work. I did that; and I'm proud of what I've achieved. I hope I don't sound conceited but…"

"No, Harry. You don't." Dumbledore assured him, sighing. "You're a very bright young man; maybe you haven't heard that enough in your life. Maybe you should have."

"I don't really need to." Harry admitted, a sad smile etched on his lips; he didn't need to hear it. Not any longer; the people who mattered the most knew who he was. That was enough. He then laughed as he recalled a conversation he had had with Sirius and Remus a few months ago. "You know, professor, Sirius said something along he same lines last year, when I had visited him and Remus at their office."

"Sirius can be a very sensitive individual, should he so wish." Albus offered, causing Harry to chuckle at the truth of his words.

"Yes, he can."

"Harry, before we go, one last thing." The teen looked at the old wizard speculatively.

"Yes, professor?" What was it this time?

"I want you to remember that, no matter how things may seem, our families are our greatest treasure." Harry smiled softly, his mind flickering to his father and brother; Severus and Neville were set to meet with him outside Gringgots.

"I know, professor." Harry stated, looking straight into the wizard's blue eyes. "Nothing is more important that family." Even the densest man on the face of the earth could see Harry meant every single word and that was enough to bring that merry twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes.

"After you then, Harry." The teen smiled one more time before throwing a handful of floo powder in the flames and walking in. Before he knew it, he was met with Severus and Neville outside Gringgots. He ran forwards and hugged them, laughing freely.

"I can't believe it! An Emancipation Ritual? How wicked is that?" Neville exclaimed, making his best friend laugh again. Adrian snorted and Harry turned to look at him in confusion. The older twin just turned his eyes to the cobble covered street and stood there silent. Harry opted to not ponder on twin's reaction at this day of all days. Instead he held his head high and walked in. Nagnok greeted him at the entrance and asked them to follow him; they did, through half a dozen of doors and flight of stair till they reached a grand mahogany door. It was the Director's office, Harry knew as much.

"I'll be right here, Harry." Severus whispered as Nagnok asked everyone but Harry and James -who would serve as the witness- to wait in the hallway. The boy nodded and smiled wide at his father, trying to convey his thankfulness and every emotion he was feeling in one glance. Elation, happiness and a bit of fear were all intermixed in his eyes and somehow he knew his father got the message loud and clear.

The door closed behind him and James. Harry moved forward and greeted the director, bowing respectfully and offering the official curtsies of the goblin race. The director greeted him back and gave Nagnok the signal to proceed. A piece of parchment lay on the desk, simple in wording and small for all the promise it held. Harry smiled once more and followed the instructions Nagnok gave him. Sign once here, a drop of blood there -it disappeared the moment it touched the parchment as it should- your witness signs here and then you cast the actual ritual.

_Magica, audite placitum meum_

_Puer non magis_

_Ambulo mundi_

_Vir nunc._

And as golden sparks flew around him and the black ink he had signed the contract with turned red, Harry knew it had worked. It was done. His fate was officially his own now, he even had that in writing. The future was suddenly less scary than it had been one day ago. And he was more ready than ever to face it.

 


	50. Tase Of Freedom

"Severus, calm down!" She exclaimed after watching him glare at the door for the umpteenth time. "It's not like the ritual is dangerous!" Severus sighed and nodded, leaning back on the wall next to Neville; the boy was fidgeting, clearly understanding the magnitude of the event at hand just as much as he did. Sirius and Remus eyed him curiously while Albus chuckled softly. The potions master, finding the moment wasn't even remotely funny, huffed and crossed his hands over his chest. How long was this going to take? His nerves were a jumbled mess and his body was going solely on caffeine fumes; sleep had evaded him last night and thus he had opted to read a bit more on the Emancipation Ritual Harry was to cast on himself.

He had asked Nagnok to send him the exact ritual the same day the Potters had agreed to let Harry go through with it and had already read it, of course. It was nothing more than the standard wording that asked magic to recognize the caster as an adult from that moment on. Severus had seen nothing dangerous to it until late last night when his anxiety had propelled him all the way from his bedroom to the library; it had struck him a bit odd that one had to ask magic to be granted their emancipation, as if needing consent.

As it turned out, one did need magic's consent to become an adult in the wizarding world. Apparently, the original rituals cast upon the law that stated a witch or wizard became an adult at seventeen were the ones that had to recognize you as an adult when you wanted to be emancipated too. And, should they find you lacking in some way, you were denied the emancipation. So no, Harry couldn't get physically hurt by the ritual. That, however, didn't keep him from get hurt in a worse way.

"What's gotten into you, Snape?" Sirius questioned, unable to keep silent a moment longer. Seeing how the dog animagus appeared apprehensive himself, Severus opted not to be snarky for once. Well, not much.

"Rituals make me nervous. Why are you fidgeting though?" He eyed Sirius carefully and slid a bit further away from him. "Fleas?" He asked raising a perfectly arched eyebrow. Neville laughed out loud, some tension easing from his frame; Adrian smirked and soon followed his example while Lily and even Remus chuckled slightly.

"Why you…" Sirius seethed while Albus, his mustache trembling slightly, walked forward and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Come now, Sirius, Severus." He said, looking at the two men with twinkling eyes. "Let us wait in peace for a few more minutes. It won't be long now." Severus sighed and nodded while Sirius returned to staring holes through the door.

"It's not such a big deal anyway." Adrian grumbled his eyes locked at the tip of his shoes once more. Neville and Severus shared a furtive look of confusion while Remus and Sirius one of understanding. Albus simply sighed while Lily rested her hand softly on Adrian's shoulder. The potions master observed the scene from the corner of his eye, trying to make heads or tails from the latest development. Adrian looked like he was… jealous? He inwardly rolled his eyes; he truly hoped the older Potter twin was simply having a teenage sullen fit and nothing more. He truly didn't wish for more strain to be place upon the relationship between him and Harry.

Severus was well aware that his son considered Neville to be his brother more than anything, but that didn't mean he had written off Adrian. If anything, Harry usually cared too much, putting himself in harms way if that meant he could keep somebody he cared for from getting hurt. His son had the tendency to place too much on his shoulders -he still hadn't found the way to make him completely unwind and he suspected he wouldn't till after the coming war was over- and he didn't need to carry his twin's misplaced jealousy too. And while the potions master was pondering on that, the door of the office opened and Nagnok walked out followed by James and a radiant Harry. It had worked, was all Severus could think of at the moment. Lily run forward and held her son close.

"It worked then?" She asked, while Harry nodded.

"Yes, it did!" The teen announced, smiling widely, his eyes looking for his father and brother over Lily's shoulder. He wanted nothing more than to run towards him and call him Dad for everyone to hear but he knew this was not the time yet; the shadow of Lord Voldemort was hanging over their heads still and, in order to keep his twin safe -Prongs and Lily, Remus and Sirius too- he couldn't afford and even bigger fall between them. They would know of how he regarded Severus; just not yet. And, looking at James' smile as Sirius patted his shoulder, maybe it was that he didn't want to cause his once family pain; they were trying to reconnect with him he knew though it didn't help. Maybe he could delay the inevitable, just for a little longer. Still, his eyes locking with the dark ones of his father, he couldn't help but smile wide once more. Severus beamed with pride and Harry couldn't help himself; he broke free from Lily's hold and made a beeline straight for Severus hugging him close while he did the same.

"I did it!" He exclaimed while Severus laughed openly.

"Of course you did!" The potions master stated matter-of-factly. "Never had a doubt!"

"Are you implying that you didn't spend the whole last night reading on the ritual?" Harry asked, taking a small step back to look into his father's eyes; the man in question cocked an eyebrow confused.

"That's irrelevant; you know how I worry and it doesn't mean I doubt you." Harry's smirk turned into a smile at that declaration. "And do you have Minnie spying on me or something?" Harry laughed at the notion.

"No, I just know you far too well." Severus smiled and then proceeded to sigh dramatically.

"Whatever shall I do with you, Harry?" They completely ignored the silence in the hallway -if once excepted Neville's snickering- as Harry smiled once more.

"By me ice-cream at Fortesque's, of course!" The green eyed wizard exclaimed, making Severus chuckle while shaking his head.

"Incorrigible, really." Harry smiled correctly interpreting his father's latest exclamation as a 'yes'.

"So, ice cream anybody?" Harry stated, turning to face the rest of the people at the hallway.

"You will allow me to say no, Mr. Potter." Nagnok stated, his toothy smile wide. Harry chuckled and nodded in acceptance.

"Of course. Thank you once more, Nagnok- nür." Harry stated, bowing his head towards his financial advisor. The goblin bowed back.

"Always a pleasure Mr. Potter. I shall contact you once more before you leave for Hogwarts; I believe it's time to renegotiate that clause on your contract with Nimbus Co." Harry nodded and thanked the goblin once more in Gobbledygook.

"Nagnok is headed for a huge bonus." He stated, looking at Severus with a smile.

"Agreed." The potions master offered still looking at the corner where said goblin had disappeared from their sight.

"And on that note," Neville stated, moving closer and hugging his brother, "congratulations, Harry!" Harry smiled -his face aching from all the smiling he had done in one morning and he didn't care one bit- and hugged him back.

"Thanks, Nev! And don't we have your new wand to pick up today too?" Harry had written to him -and Neville had agreed- that they should probably stop by at Ollivander's just in case; they could ask him to take a quick look at their wands to see if they still were in top shape after all.

"Now that you mention it, we do!" The brown eyed Gryffindor stated, throwing a hand over his brother's shoulders as they turned to Lily who had just cleared her throat to get their attention.

"We still have to do the family shopping for Hogwarts." She had stressed the word family while James behind her nodded, eyes narrowing. Harry inwardly sighed but didn't allow his good mood to dissipate; he had done it. He was free from all that had previously bound him to his parents' will; everything he did from that moment on was simply his choice and nothing more. That thought was enough to keep his smile true and bright on his face.

"Of course we do." He said, nodding once. "We'll get Neville's wand after that -he needs to shop for school too after all- and I did promise him. It's about time; did you know he was using his father's wand all this time professor Dumbledore?" He asked and watched as the Headmaster blinked once in confusion, distracted.

"No, I wasn't aware." Albus admitted, looking at Neville for confirmation.

"Yes, I did." The teen answered, catching on Harry's plan; if they had something else to focus on they wouldn't think too much of what they had just seen transpire between himself, Harry and Severus. The green eyed wizard sent him an apologetic glance and Neville just smiled; he was proud to have been carrying his father's wand for as long as he had and, thanks to his brother, he had managed to regard it just like that; like something to take pride from. "My grandmother finally realized that I should have a wand that actually fits me. Severus might have actually have had a hand in that decision." The Headmaster's eyes widened at hearing Neville calling Severus something other than 'professor Snape' but the wizard in question simply shrugged, not even pausing at the use of his given name instead of his usual title.

"Everybody must have a wand that fits them, Neville." The potions master stated simply. Harry nodded emphatically.

"Well, what say you we get out of here and walk somewhere the sun actually shines." Sirius offered, waving his hand around as to showcase how dark the corridor they were standing at was. "And congratulations, Harry. I never got to say that!" There was one more round of congratulations, heartfelt or -in the case of Adrian- not, and the group walked towards the main hall of the bank and out on the street, the conversation mostly steering towards school.

"So, how do you feel, being an adult and all?" Remus asked Harry softly as they went through the main door and out to the alley. The street was much more crowded than it had been when they had come, bright morning light coming from the skies. Harry smiled.

"Not very different." Harry offered. "Calmer though; much less to worry about right now." He avoided to explaining what his main sources of concern had been and the werewolf didn't ask seeing how his honorary nephew obviously spoke the truth. Harry walked with a lighter air around him and that was enough for one Remus J. Lupin.

"So, where to first?" James asked, looking back at the odd group around him. "Bookstore, apothecary…"

"Ice cream parlor." Harry and Severus stated simultaneously as Neville nodded. James was about to protest when he was interrupted.

"Fortesque's was advertising something about a new sundae when I walked by earlier." Neville stated.

"Was it chocolate?" Harry asked seriously.

"I believe so…" Neville offered.

"Lead the way then, Nev!" The green eyed wizard exclaimed. "What are you waiting for!" He looked at the rest of the people surrounding them. "My treat! Will you be staying, professor Dumbledore?"

"I'm afraid not, my boy. I have a few errands to run in Diagon Alley," he pointed towards the side street with the more specialized shops Harry was quite familiar with, "and then I must return to Hogwarts." The Headmaster stated. "But I wish you a good time and, once again, congratulations." Albus said his goodbyes and, with a last meaningful look towards Harry -as if he was trying to remind him of the conversation they had had at Potter Manor earlier that morning- left to run his errands, whatever they were. Harry had a feeling the Headmaster would endeavor to talk to him more come next term than he had during his past three years at Hogwarts and sighed softly, accepting that was something bound to happen with what the Headmaster had found out about him and Severus over the summer.

The walk to Florian Fortesque's was short and relatively pleasant; Adrian was silent and James spoke in short sentences but was otherwise quiet. Sirius seemed to be making and effort to be civil and Severus, recognizing that, extended the same courtesy. Their time at the ice cream parlor was quite interesting. They ran into the Patil twins that were out making their purchases along with Lavender; the three girls had just stared openly at the smiling and laughing Severus and Harry until Neville kindly informed the two wizards of that fact. A pair of dark and a pair of green eyes turned to where the smirking Gryffindor had pointed just in time to see three blushing fourteen year old girls scuffling towards the general direction of Flourish and Blots, Lavender making a soft squealing sound as she went.

"That was… unexpected." Severus offered, looking at an equally confused Harry. The potions master had expected it would have been much harder than that to expel his image as the big bad bat from the dungeons at Hogwarts. It appeared he was mistaken.

"Quite." Harry offered as Sirius snickered behind his ice cream, mouthing something about 'big green eyes' to Remus who tried and failed to hide his amused smile behind his sundae.

"I'm going to have a lot of fun at your expense this year." Neville deduced, taking a spoonful of his strawberry ice cream.

"Why thank you, Nev." Harry stated drily.

"You think that will happen often?" Lily asked, still staring towards where the three girls had disappeared into the crowd; it was extremely bizarre to have girls noticing her youngest son.

"Well, last time we were here," Severus offered, a devious smirk edging on his lips, "Harry almost caused a poor girl to drown in her ice cream because, what was it you did again?" He pretended to have problems remembering while Harry groaned and let his head fall on the table in an odd sensation of déjà vu. "Oh that's right! You looked at her!" A round of laughter echoed around the table; Neville was laughing loudly as his brother blushed while Sirius exclaimed;

"I called it!" Even James had to laugh at that. Adrian was the only one simply smiling, his eyes never leaving his brother's form; the older Potter twin looked somewhat betrayed and that made even more alarm bells go off in the potions master's mind. This didn't foreshadow well. Not by one bit.

Harry paid for the ice creams jovially, and they rose to leave; it wasn't much later that they walked into the whole Weasley family -minus Bill, Percy and Charlie, for obvious reasons- who was headed towards the bookshop themselves. They greeted each other and Adrian swiftly made his way towards Ron, whispering something to him the moment they were out of earshot; Harry didn't need his enhanced hearing to tell it was him they were talking about. He never intended to keep his emancipation a secret, that was true, but having his twin talk about it behind his back like that hurt him a little.

Well, he thought as Neville claimed his attention a few moments later -having noticed Adrian talking to Ron in the background- it didn't hurt as much as it would have in the past. He smiled at the brown eyed boy that inquired some thing or another about his Ancient Studies course, taking his mind off the muffled gasp coming from Ron after Adrian informed him of what exactly had transpired that morning. The large group had eventually run into Hermione and her parents in the bookstore. The girl's blushing countenance as she greeted her potion's professor and Harry matched the bewildered expressions around the shop. People they knew from Hogwarts were there and couldn't help but stop and stare at the changes that had happened, to their knowledge, over the holidays; there was almost nothing that remained of the image they had of Severus and Harry from last term.

Gone were the scrawny child and the dark figure of the strict potions teacher. In the place of a shy and awkward teenager stood an attractive and confident looking young man, tall for his age and dressed impeccably, talking vividly and laughing alongside with his best friend -who didn't fit the part of the shy and withdrawn Neville they knew either. And where there once was a cold man, feared and disliked by most now was a tall, imposing figure of a man with a handsome face, a rakish smirk and a strong body to replace his gaunt appearance. And Severus Snape looked happy too, presently charming Mrs. Granger, explaining how he was one of her daughter's professors in Hogwarts. No, the general whisper amongst the people who knew the two wizards concluded; there was nothing remotely reminiscent of how they remembered either wizard.

"So," Harry stated, ignoring the looks he received, "I will need an Advanced Arithmancy guide and a couple of books on introduction of old magic and ancient wards in addition to everything else. I'll be heading to second floor; Sev, do you still need that tome you were talking about?"

"The one about the newest theories on dragon's blood?" Severus asked. "Yes, it should be on…"

"Isle four, second floor." Harry muttered looking through his catalogue once again. "I'll fetch it." Severus nodded with a wide smile -effectively shocking a few second year students that passed him by- and returned to his conversation with the Grangers; apparently he had mentioned that Hermione was one of the top students in her year and that had caused the girl to turn crimson once again. Neville followed Harry to the second floor so that he could find his own book for Ancient Runes. As luck would have it -and having bumped into almost half of their year in one morning Harry should have expected something of the sort- once on the second and much quieter floor, Harry's eyes fell onto the form of Draco Malfoy. The blond teen was there to purchase his Arithmancy textbook and hadn't even noticed Neville and Harry as they went up the stairs; Harry took advantage of that fact and tugged Neville away from Draco, opting to pick up his own Arithmancy textbook last.

It had been days since he had last though of Draco Malfoy and his strange reaction to the Death Eaters' attack at the Quidditch Cup. With his emancipation ritual in mind he had pushed the incident to the back of his head; but now, seeing the boy in question brought everything back.

"Don't you tell me you're avoiding Malfoy of all people!" Neville whispered as he followed his brother to the other side of the room and behind an isle of books on Magizoology.

"I am, but not for the reasons you might think of." Harry muttered and quickly explained what he had seen when he had run after the Death Eater that had almost attacked the Robinsons.

"Are you serious?" The teen asked, looking around the corner just in time to catch Draco descending the stairs for the first floor.

"Dead serious. I just don't know what to make of all that." Harry stated, walking towards the correct isle this time.

"What does Severus have to say about it?" Asked Neville, still looking a bit shocked at the news; it was no secret that Draco had tormented him, especially during their first year at Hogwarts. Helping a group of Muggles against the Death Eaters seemed completely out of character for a person who had been raised to treat them as inferiors.

"Believe it or not, I haven't told him yet." Harry stated sighing, looking for the book his father had asked for. "With everything I had had on my mind, I pushed any thoughts of what happened that night back."

"Understandable." Neville muttered, looking for the fourth years' textbook in Ancient Runes and grabbing two copies.

"I just don't know." Harry stated, shaking his head. "I mean, that whole night was surreal and Draco defending Muggles only added to it."

"I get that." Neville assured him, as Harry picked his Advanced Arithmancy textbook before grabbing one more book on arithmological charts he had set his eyes on for quite some time absentmindedly. The two teens walked downstairs in contemplation. Their good mood did return eventually as they walked around Diagon Alley and, using their supposed need to acquire Neville's new wand as a reason, they walked away from the rest of the group and towards Ollivander's Severus walking with them, promising to bring them back to the Leaky Cauldron where the rest of the group would gather for dinner after they were done. James asked if he could accompany them but Neville kindly reminded him that he was about to pick his wand, not go book shopping and implied that he would rather not have a big audience. James had to concede to that and as such, the family of three walked towards the opposite direction of the rest of the group.

"About time." Severus stated smiling as they made the way towards Ollivander's. "I was certain James was ready to hex me at any moment."

"He might have." Harry agreed. "But then again, there were too many witnesses for a murder attempt."

"True." Severus agreed. "And now, if you two would be so kind to inform me what has got you so pensive since we left Flourish and Blot's, I'd be most obliged." The potions master was still smiling, even if his voice betrayed a small amount of concern. He hadn't noticed something out of the ordinary at the bookstore; nothing else than his son's and Neville's changed mood that is.

"You noticed that?" Harry asked smiling, wondering why he was even bothered to feel surprised.

"I would be a terrible father if I hadn't noticed my previously delighted son looking all glum and skeptical, seemingly out of the blue." Severus stated, speaking softly trying not to be overheard. Harry smiled softly before sharing a look with Neville.

"What if I told you it had something to do with one Draco Malfoy?" That seemed to give Severus pause as he regarded both his son and Neville critically. The brown eyed teen nodded in accordance and Severus turned his gaze back towards his son.

"You've got my attention." And Harry began explaining everything that had happened in a hushed tone, from the moment he had seen Draco in that clearing to how he hadn't managed to make anything of it in the few times he had allowed his mind to dwell on it. Their talk was interrupted for a few minutes while they entered Ollivander's and asked the wandmaker for a routine check on their wands who passed it with flying colours; not that Harry was surprised. Severus had asked him to repeat the whole story on their walk back, his mind going over every possible explanation. As it turned out, they were unable to actually talk about the fact until three days later.

After they had left Diagon Alley, Severus had to tend to the final details before the Wolfsbane became available for wide consumption and the paperwork alone took him a day and a half to complete. In the meantime, Harry had returned to Potter manor where Adrian and the rest of his family were set to get ready in order to resume Adrian's slightly neglected training program over the rest of the summer. The only change this time had been James' offer to Harry; he had asked his younger son to accompany them. It was a slightly shocked Harry that denied the offer.

He had explained that he had never been trained alongside Adrian and, while he appreciated the fact that he was asked to join the training, he would probably hold Adrian back. James had protested then, stating how training was important for Harry too, him being Adrian's brother. Harry had tried his best not to lose his temper; instead of yelling, he had frostily reminded his father that he hadn't been trained the past years with them either, but he could still hold his own quite effectively as he had demonstrated when fighting against the Death Eaters.

As that conversation progressed he found himself exceedingly pleased with his decision to cast the Emancipation Ritual. James could have simply ordered him to come along, something he must have realized himself, judging from his grim mood the next couple of days until they left. Lily had asked him of the exact same thing, hoping that she would succeed where her husband had failed; Harry was resolute. They had excluded him for all of his life practically and he had finally come to like that. Now it was their time to deal with the consequences of their actions.

Harry had flooed over Silbreith the very moment his once family had left, a wide smile on his face at his newfound freedom. Minnie had welcomed him warmly and had sent one of the house elves to Neville's house -by Harry's request- to call on his friend. The teen had arrived half an hour later and had swiftly joined Harry and Severus at the back porch.

"If this is how you spend your holidays I wonder how you can stand returning to Hogwarts every beginning of term." Neville stated smirking, reclining back on a chaise lounge, a glass of cold tea in hand as he looked at the lake in the distance.

"It's a hardship." Harry answered in mock desperation. Severus scoffed, staring at the lake himself.

"So," Neville asked after a silent moment, "have you thought anything concerning Malfoy? Because I just don't get it."

"Did you know I was almost made his godfather?" Severus asked out of the blue, making Harry breathe most of the tea he was trying to swallow.

"What?" The teen asked, green eyes wide as he stared at his father in complete disbelief.

"Yes." Severus offered sighing. "I had almost forgot so myself; it was back during my darkest period, when I had just finished my mastery on potions. Narcissa had written to ask whether I would consider it. From what I understand, Lucius in the end opted to make Rabastan LeStrange his godfather instead."

"Smart move, really." Neville offered sarcastically; Rabastan LeStrange was still in Azkaban for his crimes during Voldemort's reign.

"Well, hindsight is always clearer." Severus muttered. "I just can't help but wonder how things would have turned out had I been his godfather."

"I imagine I would have seen much more of him during the years." Harry stated. "I have no idea how that would have worked, considering everything though."

"It probably wouldn't have worked at all." Severus stated, shaking his head. "Anyway, no point in wondering what could have been. What's more important is what happened and what happened was Draco going against everything he has been taught and fighting against the very people he had been raised to support."

"And saving people he believes to be inferiors." Neville interjected. "Plus, with how he has treated me personally over the years, I find it hard to consider he secretly is all warm and cuddly on the inside." Harry and Severus chuckled at that, the green eyed boy shaking his head.

"Still, it's something to consider." Harry stated.

"Are we actually considering Draco secretly is warm and cuddly, once you get to know him?" Neville asked, cocking an eyebrow at his brother.

"What Harry, means, I suppose," Severus said, "is that nothing is what it seems." Harry nodded. "I wouldn't go as far as calling him that," the potions master continued with a smirk, "but, you have to remember, he is a Malfoy. Draco has been raised with a specific mindset; he as been trained from birth to consider Purebloods superior. No matter what his personal beliefs might have been, had he been raised in an unbiased environment that would have allowed them to develop without external steering, he has been through fourteen years worth of propaganda." Harry nodded once more, trying to imagine himself in Draco's shoes. And, since he couldn't picture the person he would have become had he received such an upbringing, he tried to imagine instead himself growing up with James as his father. Would he have hated Severus then? Adrian definitely did, or had, up to recently. He might have never even seen past Neville's shy exterior either, considering him nothing more than a fumbling awkward teen that was even more scared of their potions master than the rest of them were. And James was nowhere near as bad as Lucius Malfoy.

"Fourteen years of propaganda notwithstanding," Harry offered, his thoughts taking him once more to the night of the attack at the World Cup, "I know what I saw. Draco seemed more shocked at what he had done than I was at catching him doing it but that doesn't change the fact that he did cast that spell." Severus and Neville nodded, the potions master looking pensive.

"I can't believe I'm even having this conversation," Neville stated, "but I have to admit, stranger things have happened."

"I'd say." Harry agreed; his whole life so far was one of said stranger things and it had definitely happened.

"Still, we can do nothing more than speculate. Just keep an eye on him." Severus stated, cutting a piece from the chocolate cake Minnie had left for them on the table. "If you ever get free time over the year that is." He handed the cake to Neville, the only one that hadn't tried it yet, his eyes focused on his son, a slight tremble coming over his frame.

He had the appearance of a man ready to grab his son and hide for the next school year and in all truth, that was one of the thoughts that had passed through his mind that very morning; Albus, before leaving to oversee Adrian's training, had called the teaching staff and informed them that the measure taken to prevent injuries during the Triwizard Tournament was simple; no underage wizard would be able to compete. And, to avoid students using aging potions, the ward placed would have nothing to do with actual age and everything to do with what ones magical signature stated. And while the plan was quite smart, it left a specific loophole to be considered. A Harry shaped loophole. Albus obviously believed that Harry wouldn't have the experience required to be selected but Severus knew better; he would have to invest on calming draughts this year.

"You know I need this, Dad." Harry stated softly, correctly guessing what Severus was talking about, looking at his father in earnest. "I will never get a better chance to train in such a scale as the Triwizard Tournament offers before the war; and it will be a controlled environment to boot. The circumstances are ideal."

"I know that." Severus stated, closing his eyes and letting his head hit the pillow behind him. "You do realize I'll hate it anyway." Harry and Neville chuckled at the declaration. "I mean, I'll be ridiculously proud of you if you get chosen. But I'll hate it all the same." This time the teens next to him burst into laughter. "It's not even that funny!" Severus exclaimed, opening his eyes and throwing a pillow towards his son. Harry ducked swiftly, the pillow hitting Neville straight on the chest.

"Hey!" The brown eyed teen complained, throwing the pillow back.

"You must admit, it was a little funny." Harry offered, whipping a few errant tears and chuckling.

"Kind of reminded me one of Ron's predictions for Trelawney's class I overheard last term." Neville stated, a smile forming on his face as he reminisced.

"How so?" Severus asked, not knowing if he should be insulted just yet.

"They were working in pairs, I think, and Adrian was paired with Ron; apparently Adrian's tea leaves, according to Ron, predicted something of the sort 'you'll suffer, but you'll be happy for it'." Even Severus laughed on that one.

"Still, we don't even know if I'll get chosen." Harry reminded them making Severus roll his eyes.

"With our luck?" He shook his head in exasperation. "Harry, I have a feeling you would have managed to get chosen without even competing!"

"True." Harry quipped before dissolving into laughter. He only wished, as he watched the sunset by his family's side, that laughter would accompany them during the coming year too. Excitement at least, should things go as expected, was certain.


	51. Let The Games Begin

The morning of the first of September was rainy. It was gloomy and ridiculously cold for a morning so early in the autumn it was still practically summer. The pitter patter of raindrops and the fresh scent of rain on the ground spoke of a torrent that had lasted the better part of the night. The atmosphere was glum the humidity was stifling and Harry Potter couldn't have been happier.

"Come on, Adrian!" Harry called -inwardly cringing as he recognized hints of whining in his voice he would later swear never left his lips even if, in his defense, his twin was stalling- moving energetically around the kitchen at the Potter manor, a cup of tea in his hands. "We're going to be late!"

"You're annoyingly energetic, this morning." Adrian stated, his eyes drooping; he didn't appear completely awake yet. "You're always annoyingly energetic at mornings."

"I'll have you know that I can be a right sloth when I want to be, thank you very much." The green eyed wizard deadpanned, a jovial smile firmly placed on his lips. He had been known to sleep till noon should the circumstances allow it and one only had to ask Severus to verify it. The only problem was, circumstances rarely allowed it. And today of all days, he had barely managed to sleep at all; as it often happened when he was excited, Harry had been up before the sun and double checking he had packed everything. Going back to Hogwarts had never seemed so exciting. He had barely any masks left on, his Dad was going to be teaching and acting like his normal, amazing self and then there was the undeniable excitement the Triwizard Tournament promised.

He and Nev had been trying to predict what the trials would be during the past few weeks based on previous tasks Harry had read about. One prediction was crazier than the rest and they had decided to stop talking about the tournament out of Harry's room when Severus ran into them at the back porch while they were contemplating dragons; the potions master had ran for his chocolate stash looking paler than death, one hand clenching his shirt right over his heart. Despite the coming war, Harry thought, life was looking good at the moment.

"Still, you can't be so excited about school!" Adrian pressured, standing up himself upon hearing Lily calling them from the living room.

"Hey!" Harry protested, elbowing his twin playfully. "I've missed Hogwarts!" Adrian just rolled his eyes, not commenting at all, as he walked out the kitchen to join Lily and James. Harry sighed and followed; Adrian had been acting weird around him ever since their birthday. In the beginning he had brushed his bad mood off as a byproduct of his shock upon finding out everything but things had slowly deteriorated during August. Considering how Adrian had largely ignored him last term, Harry couldn't truly understand why his presence irked his twin so. He had tried to ignore how Adrian acted but maybe, he thought, he should tell Neville about it, see if his brother had noticed something he had missed. The train ride was a great opportunity to do just that, Harry thought, reaching the living room with a spring on his step.

"Ready boys?" James asked, looking at his sons with a glint in his hazel eyes. "Come on! This is a year you won't want to miss!" You bet! Harry thought.

"Why though?" Adrian asked, his curiosity evoked.

"You'll find out when you arrive." James stated cryptically while Lily shook her head at his antics. Harry hid his smile the best he could as he put on a travelling cloak; he wondered how Dumbledore would announce the Tournament. Severus had told him what the extra protection measures consisted off and Harry had to admit it would be interesting to see the Headmaster's reaction once he officially placed his name in the fabled Goblet of Fire.

It wasn't long until the group of four made it to the platform. Remus and Sirius had said their goodbyes the night before with the dog animagus being all coy and insinuating that they'd be seeing each other sooner than they thought. Harry had just smiled and indulged him, a fond smile on his face.

"Hey, Harry!" Neville called from inside the train, waving to his brother through an open window.

"Hey, Nev!" Harry greeted back. "I'll be right there!" He turned around to say goodbye to his parents. Adrian was already looking for his friends in the crowd while the Potters gazed over both their sons with worry. Harry smiled and hugged them once, promising to write the moment he found time; James just smiled at his statement, kindly implying there would be a lot he would have to write about. The teen just smiled and waved them goodbye, pushing his trunk towards the train.

"Here, let me help you with this." Neville's voice sounded from the train, having approached the door to help Harry with his trunk. Harry carried Hedwig's cage inside with them, while his brother led him towards a compartment at the back of the train. It was empty bar the two of them and the black haired teen locked the door behind them as it closed. Neville just looked at him in confusion. "I guess you want to talk without any interruptions?"

"Basically." Harry agreed, moving closer to the window to wave at James and Lily after casting a quick spell to make the compartment soundproof. The train started moving slowly, leaving the station, his parents and the families gathered at the platform fading from sight.

"Should I be worried?" Neville asked, brown eyes searching his brother's face for clues.

"No." Harry stated, slumping back at his seat. "Or at least I don't think so, I mean…" He took a deep breath and tried to compose his thoughts, his mind making a quick not of all the things that had seemed off with his twin during the past month. "Does Adrian seem, I don't know, a little more…  _distant_  than he usually is?" Neville's eyes widened for a moment before he sighed and nodded once.

"You noticed." Harry nodded, not knowing if he should be relieved or worried that he hadn't imagined it.

"Yes, I noticed." The green eyed teen said, closing his eyes and allowing the rhythmic movement of the train to relax him a little before he continued. "It's not like we have ever been close; it's sad, considering he's my twin, but it's the truth." He halted once more, realizing he had never told anybody -except his father- how he felt about his waning relationship with his twin. "But the last few weeks, after he found out about the Firebolt and Sev and, well,  _this_ ," he stated waving a hand over his face, indicating the absence of any glamour spell, "Adrian has acted completely different. Not always, of course; but I can't help like feeling he barely tolerates me sometimes. It's as if he's angry at me all of a sudden?" The last sentence he had uttered was worded as a question, but Harry couldn't help wondering just how correct his assessment might be.

"Angry?" Neville asked, his face pensive. "I don't know. Maybe. But not at you, no." That only served to make Harry more confused than before.

"If not at me then…"

"I think Adrian is a bit angry. Maybe with reason." Neville paused, looking at his brother in earnest, trying to find the right words to phrase what he wanted to say. Harry on his part simply sat there, silent and unmoving, trying to understand what Neville was insinuating.

"But why?"

"Well, he's a fourteen year old teenager that has spent half his life training to fight a Dark Lord." Harry's eyes widened in shock, his brain going on overdrive as Neville continued. "He has never really been able to do what he wanted to but I think, up to recently, he didn't truly mind. He has his friends, he has had the past three years that, although dangerous, you have told me Adrian has considered as one big adventure." Harry nodded, following his brother's thoughts.

"And you think he finally realized he could what? Do more?  _Be_  more?" Neville shrugged noncommittally.

"Not quite." Neville offered. "Look, Harry, up to recently, I had no idea what it was like to have a brother." At that Harry smiled; deep down, up to recently, he too had never realized what it truly meant, having a brother. "But Adrian has always seen himself as the older twin; the one with the responsibilities, the one that has to deal with the crazy stuff that happens around your family."

"So what? He wants more responsibilities, you think?" Harry asked incredulously. "I would give  _anything_  for Voldemort to be truly gone so that nobody would have to shoulder that responsibility!"

"I know." Neville said. "But I don't think that Adrian really understands what it's like to fight. What it feels like to be truly terrified and still go all out and face your demons. He might have been training for seven years but…"

"He's never really fought." Harry finished his brother's sentence, rubbing his face tiredly. If he hadn't had that abrupt wake up call at the end of his first year would he have been the same person he was right now, Harry thought. If Neville hadn't practically lost his parents at the first war, would he too have grown up to be the boy he was today?

"Exactly. He has led quite the sheltered life; demanding yes, but sheltered. And it's that exactly that's been making him angry, I think; maybe he's feeling stifled? I don't know. At this point I'm just guessing." Neville admitted; he couldn't be sure how Adrian felt, of course; but he had given the whole situation some thought since the Quidditch Cup and those first glances he had caught and these were his conclusions so far.

"You know, Nev, the anger? I can relate." Harry admitted, looking at his hands in contemplation. "I've felt it too; every time I think of what is going to happen. Every time I remember Nicholas and Perenelle. I have been forced to kill and lie and hide. And it makes me sad but it also makes me angry; it makes me  _furious_. There are moments I'm even scaring myself." He remembered how he was when he had faced Quirrel. Only eleven and so angry at the face of his twin's would-be killer. Seeing Ginny half dead on a dirty floor, down beneath Hogwarts. During the Death Eaters raid. And that fury? It scared him more than Voldemort ever did.

"Hey now!" Neville exclaimed, standing up from his place opposite his brother to seat back right next to him, a hand on his shoulder. "It's alright to be angry. After everything it's only normal. Being angry doesn't make evil and it definitely isn't going to make you into Voldemort. It just makes you human. I hate to break it to you brother," Neville continued, his voice a tad lighter than before, "but you're not perfect." That got Harry to finally look him in the eyes. "Being angry simply makes you human." It was only after a prolonged, silent moment that Harry chuckled once shaking his head in exasperation.

"You and Dad need to teach classes on always knowing the right thing to say; you're eerily good at it."

"It's a gift and a burden." Neville stated solemnly, the mischievous chuckle in his brown eyes belying his true thoughts on the subject. "Besides, I don't think Adrian has been treating you like this because he's angry." Harry cocked one eyebrow in confusion.

"No?"

"Nope!" Neville offered. "Harry, I simply think he's jealous." This time the green eyed teen couldn't help but laugh.

"Oh come on! Adrian jealous. Of me?" Seeing how his brother was still dead serious, his smile faded. "You mean that, don't you?"

"Harry, you got emancipated. You're the inventor of the Firebolt and the memory spheres and last month Adrian saw you holding your own against Death Eaters!" Neville stated, ignoring Harry that was mumbling something like "Sheer, damned luck!" under his breath at the mention of Death Eaters, selling himself awfully short. "When was the first time when you noticed that change in Adrian?" Harry thought back at the last summer; with everything he had going on, he hadn't really paid that much attention to his twin but there were moments he couldn't ignore.

"At the beginning, I thought it was the shock of everything I threw at him at our birthday. I thought he'd snap out of it sooner or later." Harry admitted. "But the day I told him about getting emancipated? There was no mistaking  _that_  for shock." Harry shook his head once more in realization. "Really? Jealousy?"

"Well, yeah." Neville admitted. "I believe Severus might have caught up on it too, but he hasn't told me anything." Harry nodded, making a mental note to ask his father at the first opportunity; he knew Severus wouldn't talk unless he asked him himself, knowing his son well enough to understand Harry would need time to process things on his own before talking about anything.

"Still, though; it's hard to believe." Neville, picking up on his brother's dimming good spirits, sighed and nodded once forcefully.

"You know what?" He asked, punching Harry's shoulder lightly. "Enough of that! This is our first day back to Hogwarts and we're going to bloody enjoy it!" Harry smirked at him, his eyes expressing the gratefulness he couldn't find the words to express.

"You have a point there." Harry admitted, his smirk turning into a smile.

"Of course I do!" Neville exclaimed. "And, now that Severus isn't around to have a stroke, have you given any thought to what the tournament might entail this time around?" And he beamed at his brother who, animated once more, started arraying his theories one after the next. The remaining of the train ride had passed just as Harry had intended it too when he woke up that morning; it had been filled with laughter and crazy theories and had flown by remarkably fast. It was already nightfall when they reached Hogsmeade station, but Harry felt incredibly revitalized; he just spread smiles all around, waving at his stunned schoolmates that hadn't yet seen him up close and walked lively next to Neville towards the carriages.

The two brothers ended up sharing a carriage with Fred, George and their friend Lee -the boy still looking at Harry as if he had never seen him before and in complete denial of everything he had heard about Severus from the twins- and having such a great time, Harry didn't even feel the sharp tag at his heart at seeing the thestrals this time around. The Weasley twins were wondering out loud about what the whole commotion was about this year -their parents hadn't mentioned anything about the Tournament either- but Harry and Neville simply shared a smile and let nothing slip; it wouldn't be long till they found out anyway.

They finally left the carriages and got reunited with Adrian, Ron and Hermione at the castle's entrance. The three teens were talking animatedly and only turned around to see the group of five approaching when alerted by Seamus and Dean, who were standing right next to them and, once they caught sight of Harry, started whispering frantically -Harry managed to catch something sounding like 'he has almost doubled in height!.

"Hey there!" Harry called smirking dashingly, black robes trailing behind him as he walked. Hermione blushed slightly as did -'Merlin help me!', Harry thought as Neville chuckled next to him- Millicent Bulstrode who was passing by with Blaise Zabini.

"Hey, Harry!" Adrian called back, thankfully smiling, before taking a moment to glare at a bored looking Draco Malfoy that passed him by. Ron followed his best friend's example adding a growl while staring at the blonde's retreating back.

"Did I miss something?" Harry asked, examining the whole scene carefully.

"Malfoy has always been an annoying sod." Ron stated, turning to look at Harry. "Don't know why I expected anything different this time around."

"What did his do this time?" Neville asked, sharing a meaningful glance with Harry.

"He passed by our compartment, like he does every year." Adrian answered, toning down on the death glares and turning his attention to the conversation at hand.

"Well, no reason to be more annoyed with him this year than you were the last." Harry reasoned, sensing there was yet something more to be said on the subject.

"That's just it!" Ron exclaimed. "This time, he walked in like he owned the place, took a look around and said; 'You know what? You're not even worth the effort'!" Ron's face turned an unhealthy shade of red as he spoke, his voice steadily increasing in volume. "The pompous git!"

"So you're upset because Malfoy  _didn't_  start a fight this time?" Harry asked slightly amused. Draco kept behaving weird for his standards as it seemed but at least he acted less offensive than usual.

"See that's what Ginny and I said too." Hermione stated, speaking up, glaring at Ron with an exasperated look on her face. "But did you listen? No! I had to spend the whole ride listening to how Malfoy was being his usual annoying self instead!" Neville chortled as Harry simply shook his head and moved towards the entrance. The moment he stepped foot in the hall he realized, once more, just how much he had missed Hogwarts. With that thought, he sent a smile towards Neville who smiled back, greeted a couple of seemingly star-struck third years and walked along with the rest of the student body towards the Great Hall.

Once there, his smile turned into a full blown grin; there was a group of students gathered at the entrance, all looking towards the staff table. If one wanted to be specific, they could say that they were staring at a certain potions master who was talking animatedly with Professor Flitwick. Severus Snape was decidedly not dressed in black and looked young and completely at ease with his surroundings. Professor Flitwick must have said something funny at that moment for Severus laughed out loud, a deep contagious laughter that made his eyes twinkle and a seventh year girl from Ravenclaw in front of Harry mutter a startled ' _wow_!' at the sight. Her friends obviously shared her thoughts and Harry chuckled, gathering some attention to his person. The same girl's eyes turned wide as they locked with a pair of startling green.

"Good evening." Harry greeted her, grin in place before turning to look at the whole group. "Would you mind moving a bit to the left? I don't mean to cause you and disturbance but you're blocking the way." The girl blushed and nodded as the group of girls moved, whispering amongst themselves.

"Yes, of course." She said, looking at the younger teen confused. Harry smirked once more and winked at her passing by, feeling playful.

"Thank you, ladies!" He called over his shoulder causing yet another round of whispers amongst the group.

"You  _so_  did this on purpose!" Neville said, trying not to laugh while the girls were still in proximity.

"Completely made it up as I went!" Harry admitted, catching his father's eye over the tables and waving at him; Severus waved back unrestrained, a wide smile adorning his face. "I mean, I don't even know these girls! Crazy, right?" Harry looked completely disbelieving as he thought back on the whole event and -at the look of complete surprise on his face- Neville could no longer restrain his laughter.

"As I said, this year will be  _so_  amusing!" Harry shook his head as they sat down at the Gryffindor table, greeting his fellow classmates.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" Dean exclaimed, taking the seat opposite him. "What happened over the summer?"

"Narggle attack." Neville offered, making Harry laugh at loud at his brother's explanation. "It was horrible!" The rest of the teens around them simply looked confused until Harry explained.

"Come on guys; it's called puberty. Everybody has to go through it!" And don't seek for more answers on that subject, for you shall receive none, Harry thought. Still he was bombarded with questions about the Firebolt and Severus, the attack at the Quidditch Cup and the memory spheres; some, those concerning the Firebolt for example, he answered gladly. Others he ignored altogether with Neville's help. Suddenly, complete silence fell around the table and, before Harry could think of the worse, he heard his father's voice calling him over his shoulder.

"Had a nice train ride?" Severus asked, shooing a startled Dean out of the way to sit next to Harry for a while.

"It was okay." Harry said, chuckling at the shocked faces around.

"Anyway, Nagnok contacted me; he said he'll send the financial reports for August tomorrow morning." Harry fully realized that his father could have waited to say that after the feast. He also understood why he hadn't waited; he had just up and sat next to his son just because he could. How much better this term could get?

"Does that goblin work too hard or is it just my idea?" Harry asked, making Severus chuckle. There were a few audible gasps of shock all around that both wizards chose to ignore.

"You think?" Severus asked playfully, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow. "No, seriously, what gave you that idea?"

"If you're going to be sarcastic, I'm writing to him tomorrow saying you volunteered for an interview with Rita Skeeter." Harry bantered, an evil smile on his face.

"That was cruel, Harry." Severus said, his eyes assuming the dreaded puppy look. "It hurt here." He added and placed a hand over his heart.

"Alright, maybe it was a bit cruel." The teen admitted amidst laughter.

"There are just some things you don't joke about!" Severus insisted, poking his son's shoulder with his finger for emphasis.

"Fine, fine." Harry offered. They chatted for a while longer until the doors opened and McGonagall appeared with the first years. Severus stood up and waved, saying goodbye to Neville and smiling a wide smile towards Harry; nope, the boy thought. It would be nigh impossible to make this year any better.

"What did just happen?" Parvati asked, her head moving between Severus's retreating form and Harry continuously.

"You'll get used to it." Neville assured her with a kind smile, making her even more confused. Everybody knew how Neville was terrified of Severus Snape, right? Then again, the girl thought, Severus Snape no longer looked like the potions master he remembered -Merlin help us, he looked _nothing_  like the gaunt man from the past years; he looked the exact opposite- and Neville didn't look the same either. Let's not even talk about the younger Potter twin, she added mentally, sharing a look with Lavender as Harry laughed at something Neville had said. What was going on?

The shorting passed relatively fast as all four tables cheered and applauded at the new students that joined their Houses. Colin Creevey's brother Dennis was sorted in Gryffindor and Colin was explaining to him who was who on the table; first he pointed at Adrian -Colin's idol for the past years- before turning his attention to his twin; green eyes widened as Harry tried to ignore the shocked exclamations coming form the younger and soaked to the bone Creevey brother -the boy had fallen into the lake and was positively ecstatic about it- while fighting down his blush.

"Hey, where's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Lee asked Fred, making Harry look at the decisively empty chair on the staff table on his father's ; he hadn't thought to ask Severus about whom the new professor would be but, since Severus hadn't audibly protested, he had guessed it would be somebody at least halfway decent. Now however, with no defense teacher on the horizon, his curiosity was piqued. Dumbledore however didn't seem too concerned and with a swift 'Tuck in!' the plates in front of them were filled with all sorts of foods.

Hermione was eating very little and seemed irritated to do so; it was no secret that there were house elves working at the school's kitchens -though Hermione, with all her knowledge of Hogwarts was unaware of the fact till Ron had tactlessly informed her a few minutes ago- and, after witnessing Winky's mistreatment at the hands of Mr. Crouch, the bushy haired Gryffindor had developed a distaste when eating anything house elf made.

It was a while later when Harry gently elbowed Neville, the moment the last trace of the desserts vanished from the table along with the plates and cutlery; Dumbledore stood up for his customary speech. Neville smirked as both teens turned to look at the Headmaster. The Triwizard Tournament was about to be announced.

"So!" said Dumbledore, smiling around at them all. "Now that we are all fed and watered, I must once more ask for your attention, while I give out a few notices. Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me to tell you that the list of objects forbidden inside the castle has this year been extended to include Screaming Yo-yos, Fanged Frisbees, and Ever-Bashing Boomerangs. The full list comprises some four hundred and thirty-seven items, I believe, and can be viewed in Mr. Filch's office, if anybody would like to check it."

"He doesn't look too concerned about them items." Neville commented making Harry chuckle as he watched Dumbledore's moustache tremble; you really never knew with the man!

"As ever, I would like to remind you all that the forest on the grounds is out-of-bounds to students, as is the village of Hogsmeade to all below third year." Dumbledore continued, his eyes straying slightly towards the Weasley twins the moment the forest grounds were mentioned. "It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What!" Echoed an assortment of voices round the Great Hall, Adrian's one of the loudest. Fred and George looked around frantically, both being members of the Gryffindor team, as did most people in the room as they looked at each other, asking their friends if they knew anything more than they did.

"This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy -but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts…" And that's as far as he got. Because at that very moment, the doors of the Great Hall opened with a loud bang and in stepped possibly the last person one would expect.

A man walked inside, dressed in a wet and tattered travelling black cloak, each second step he took accompanied by the clunking sound of his leg. As a flash of thunder illuminated the enchanted ceiling, a perfect imitation of the cataclysm outside, light was cast upon the out of place figure that confirmed what Harry's enhanced eyesight had already hinted. With clunk of his wooden leg on the floor the figure came closer; the tangled grey hair, the scarred face with a nose that clearly missed a chunk, the magic eye, electric blue and ceaselessly moving around, all were there for the world to see.

"Alastor Moody." Harry mumbled, his words audible to the people around him. Soon a wave of voices echoed around the Hall, following the limping man all the way to the staff table were he shook hands with Dumbledore before plopping himself next to Severus, glaring at everyone around and eating from a plate of sausages. After he had sniffed them, of course.

"Moody?  _Mad-Eye_  Moody?" Ron asked only a second before Dumbledore himself confirmed the identity of the newcomer.

"May I introduce our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

"Wicked!" Harry exclaimed, having heard the stories before; the man was a living legend in his field! Usually, there was applause that accompanied the arrival of a new teacher. This time however, such was the shock said teacher's appearance caused, that it was only Hagrid, Dumbledore Harry and Severus -the potions master was looking at the man next to him smiling widely and looking every bit the excited five year old he felt, something he would have never allowed himself to look like out in the open a year ago.

"Isn't that the guy your father said blew up some dustbins last night?" Adrian asked Ron, making Harry smile even wider.

"Must be." Ron said and nodded in shock.

"What happened to him? What happened to his face?" Asked Hermione as Harry turned to Neville and explained who exactly Alastor Moody was. It didn't take long for Neville to share his brother's enthusiasm, especially after Harry whispered that he was the same man that had apprehended Bellatrix Lestrange.

Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his travelling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Harry saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.

"Okay, how wicked is  _that_?" Neville asked, looking between the wooden leg and his best friend.

"Very!" Harry agreed, forgetting even the Triwizard Tournament for a second. Only for a second though as Dumbledore intervened yet again, clearing his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Triwizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year." Finally! Harry thought, exchanging a wide smile with Neville while, at the staff table, Severus looked torn between pride and the ever-present feeling of worrying for his son.

"Merlin help me," he muttered under his breath, watching his son smiling, excited once more.

"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly. The tension that had filled the Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively.

"I am  _not_  joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar…" At that, professor McGonagall cleared her throat, seeing the Headmaster was getting off subject.

"Pity, that was a good joke. Uncle Alvin told it over the summer…" Neville muttered, forcing Harry to feign a cough just to mask his laughter while Dumbledore carried on.

"Er -but maybe this is not the time… no…" said Dumbledore, "where was I? Ah yes, the Triwizard Tournament… well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who  _do_ know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely." And he went on explaining about the three schools and about eternal glory for the winner. Such grand words were lost on Harry who saw the Tournament under a completely different light; it was his chance to test himself, to improve and prove at himself more than anybody that all the effort he had put into his studies had paid off.

"Not even the words 'death-toll' have stopped anybody from wanting to compete." Neville stated looking around, a half smirk plastered on his face.

"Come on, Nev!" Harry urged him, The Glint present in his eyes. Neville just chuckled, shaking his head at his brother's antics.

"There have been several attempts over the centuries to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "none of which has been very successful. However, our own departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger." Dumbledore explained; Harry wondered how the man would feel when he placed his name in the Cup. He had hard time believing Dumbledore had simply forgotten about his emancipation. "The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Triwizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

"I'm going for it!" Fred exclaimed, his brothers nodding while Ginny looked at them concerned. Still, it was an exclamation most students had made at that point and not only from the last two years either. There was a group of second year students at the Hufflepuff table that seemed quite eager, Harry noted.

"Eager though I know all of you will be to bring the Triwizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age -that is to say, seventeen years or older- will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This" There we go, Harry thought, as Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, and the Weasley twins were suddenly looking furious, "is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous, whatever precautions we take, and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them. I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over the student body, landing on Harry and staying there a moment longer than on the rest.

Was that it? Harry thought as Dumbledore kept speaking. Did the Headmaster simply considered him to be unable to compete because of his experience -or supposed lack thereof- or was this some sort of a test? It didn't matter, Harry thought. Was his first assumption correct, Dumbledore wouldn't be the one to judge his eligibility. And if it was all a part of some complicated test, well, he wasn't going to back down either way.

Through the rest of Dumbledore's speech -the Headmaster informed them that the delegations of the two other magical schools contesting would arrive on the thirtieth of next month- people complained right and left -the Weasley twins making the most racket since they were turning seventeen come April. And they kept talking amongst them and complaining all the way to their dormitories, or at least the Gryffindors did. Harry and Neville were some of the few exceptions; the two teens had waved goodbye to Severus from across the room and had headed off to bed, lost in their conversation of the Tournament once more. Neville seemed to get a kick that Harry was able to compete and had simply asked him not to dare place his name in the Cup if he wasn't present. Harry himself was wondering how the Cup looked as he had only read a few sketchy descriptions in the books back at Silbreith.

The next day was just as rainy as the one before but nobody complained; as if the distraction of the Triwizard Tournament wasn't enough, the first day of classes had signalled the first potions' lessons with Severus acting like himself in front of his students. It was the third year Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws that had double potions first and Harry had listened to the rumours that potions were rapidly becoming one of the favourite classes in school. His year had a lesson with Severus the next day, but that didn't stop him from passing by his father's office during the break before he was to sit for his Arithmology exam. Severus had been exhilarated, the joy of doing his job as he had so fervently wished during his tenure at Hogwarts showing on every inch of his body.

So, it was a very happy Harry Potter that climbed the stairs to his Arithmancy class; professor Vector had been waiting for him with a test in hand and the green eyed wizard was more than pleased to say he had done more than well at it. More than well if the professor's satisfied smile as she skimmed over the parchment was anything to go by.

During dinner, Harry realized, the new and improved potions' classes had a dire impact on the sixth year Gryffindors too that had had potions that afternoon. Alicia Spinnet had apparently been awarded five points and a smile for a potion well brewed and was now staring at Severus from afar, a dreamy look in her eyes. A certain Weasley twin was not amused.

Harry's turn for potions class came next morning. He and Neville had rushed to the dungeons, wolfing down their breakfasts to get a good seat and greet Severus before the rest of the class arrived.

"Hey, Sev!" Harry called walking in the classroom with a smile on his face; the potions lab now resembled the one back at Silbreith. It seemed as if the shadows had been chased away from the corners, the black furniture had been exchanged for the sake of chestnut coloured bookcases, cupboards and selves filled with books and vials, while light was pouring through the iron bars of the skylights.

"Good morning, Harry!" Severus called, walking towards his son to give him a hug. "Good morning, Neville." Neville greeted him back while the potions master looked back at Harry, beaming with pride.

"What?" Harry asked in amusement.

"I ran into professor Vector this morning; a certain fourth year Gryffindor will be taking his OWLs on Arithmancy a year early, or so she said." The smile on his face was wide as Harry whooped in glee.

"She hasn't told me yet!" The teen explained as his brother and father congratulated him.

"She will come lunch. Congratulations, son." He whispered the last sentence and smiled, hugging his son once more. They had to part soon as the sound of footsteps echoed in the corridor. Harry and Neville went to sit at the table closest to Severus at the front row while the potions master sat at the corner of his desk, smile still in place as he welcomed every student that entered his class. The silence was complete as the last student entered and the door closed.

"Good morning, class!" Severus exclaimed, a grin firmly etched on his lips. "Welcome to your forth year of potions. Before we start with the first potion for the year, allow me to caution you that as your potions get more advanced, they also get more volatile. You must be more careful this year than you were the last in order to prevent accidents from happening." He looked around the class and smiled, almost apologetically, shrugging softly as he added; "And by accidents I actually mean please - _please_ \- don't make it so I'll have to scrub another cauldron from the ceiling. It's really not half as fun as it looks like to the observer, let me tell you." Harry -who knew first hand the incident Severus was referring to- laughed out loud and most girls giggled -Lavender blushing at the same time- while the rest of the students had a confused smile slowly shaping on their lips. "Now," Severus continued, clapping his hands once and pointing at the instructions on the board "let's talk about the ingredients you'll be using today and how to avoid them from blowing up in your face…"

By general consensus, it was the most successful potions lesson any of them remembered. When the bell rang, the students left the class talking animatedly and greeting Severus as they went -Harry didn't fail to notice some dreamy expressions of the like he had seen on Alicia. Points had been awarded justly and laughter had ringed along the class that had managed to produce better potions than ever.

"This was  _amazing_!" Hermione gushed as they walked back to the Great Hall. "Did you hear how he described the many uses of aconite? I hadn't realised it can be used at so many potions!"

"You know," Adrian stated tentatively, "today's lesson was quite difficult but almost…"

" _Fun_!" Ron intoned scandalised. Harry had just laughed and winked at them as he walked towards his Ancient Studies classroom. He hadn't enjoyed himself so much during the term since, well, ever!

September passed in a jovial atmosphere; there was an ongoing competition on whose class was more popular, Severus's or Moody's with the potions master taking the lead when Moody's lessons steered a bit on the creepy side. 'Constant vigilance' was the new professor's motto and he seemed to be intent on instilling it on every single student. Even if that meant casting the Unforgivable curses in front of or -in the case of the Imperio curse-  _on_  them. Harry had led Neville to the kitchens that day for a well earned cup of after midnight hot chocolate.

As the first two months of term reached their end, the buzz regarding the Triwizard Tournament returned full force. The only person that had been mysteriously uninterested was none other than Draco Malfoy; Harry and Neville didn't have the time they wanted to investigate further as soon came the time when the delegations from Bauxbatons and Durmstrang were to arrive and the speculations were wilder than ever. The schools in question didn't fail to make an impression as they arrived at the thirtieth of October.

The Beauxbatons' students arrived in a huge carriage, pulled by giant flying horses the likes of which Harry had never seen in his life. The Headmistress of the school was a woman taller than Hagrid by the name of Madam Maxim; the Headmistress greeted Dumbledore warmly as her students, as far as Harry could see walked behind her, they shawls wrapped tightly around their shoulders. Maybe Beauxbatons was located somewhere on the Mediterranean coast? Harry thought as Neville pointed at the horses excitedly.

It wasn't long before the delegation of Durmstrang made its appearance too; on a ship and out the lake. Harry clapped slowly, an amused smirk on his face.

"You can't say wither school didn't make an entrance." He muttered at Neville making him laugh. The students of Durmstrang were wrapped in thick fur coats instead while their Headmaster, Igor Karkaroff, led them towards the castle. The man had a hungry look about him as he approached Dumbledore and Harry immediately recalled his father's warning; Karkaroff had been a Death Eater back in the say and decisively not of the double agent category. The shock for the whole of Hogwarts however didn't come from the grand entrance of the Durmstrang delegation; it rather came from one single student that Karkaroff had pushed forward with the pretence of a cold. That student was none other than Victor Krum.

"Wonders never cease!" Neville exclaimed as the students moved back into the castle; the Durmstrang students sat at the Slytherin table while Beauxbatons' preferred the ravens. And it wasn't until after the food was served and Harry found himself immersed in the financial report for October Nagnok had managed to send in early that Harry appreciated Neville's exclamation. He was going over a list of new shops in Asia Nagnok had approved to sell Firebolts while a new wave of whispers made its way through the Gryffindor table.

"Great Merlin!" Neville muttered, looking towards the general direction Seamus next to him was openly pointing at with his finger. Harry looked over the report in confusion and almost spit his pumpkin juice. Of course! How hadn't he connected the dots before? Beauxbatons was a French school. And he knew she would turn seventeen on September. How had he not seen this coming? She was walking along the table as if searching from something, causing the boys she passed by to stop and stare at her as she walked. Adrian chocked on his pudding as she walked towards them while Harry smirked and hid himself behind the parchments in his hand.

"Excuse me, are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?" Her voice sounded next to Dean Thomas who blushed and just stared on. A long sheet of silvery-blonde hair fell almost to her waist. She had large, deep blue eyes, and very white, even teeth. Ron went purple. He stared up at her, opened his mouth to reply, but nothing came out except a faint gurgling noise.

"Elle est à vous, si vous le voulez." Harry stated, putting the financial report down for good on the table. Fleur and the Gryffindors around him stopped whatever they were doing to watch the exchange. Understanding showed in Neville's eyes and then a wide smile appeared on his lips as he turned to look at the blonde girl. Fleur herself gasped as her eyes widened and then squealed audibly before throwing herself into Harry's arms; Harry, even if he had not expected her reaction, more than welcomed it.

"'Arry!" She exclaimed, somehow sitting next to him without letting her arms slip from around him. He laughed as he hugged her back.

"Nice to see you again, Fleur." The complete silence from around was broken by an indignant Adrian.

"You know each other?" That seemed to be the question on everybody's minds.

"What do you think, Adrian?" Harry asked amused as Fleur added, voice, playful, looking at Harry under long lashes;

"Some nights are unforgettable, non?" Her accent was the same as ever and her smile just as bright as Harry recalled.

"I'd rather forget my own name first." Harry assured her, a smirk now permanent on his face, making her giggle melodically.

" _What_?" Ron asked from next to him, his face a deep purple. Neville laughed while the Weasley twins shared a look before chorusing a;

"Bloody hell!" The green eyed wizard could see Ginny quietly mocking her brothers' reactions a few seats down.

"You know what, Fleur?" Harry asked smiling at the girl next to him. "This is turning out to be a very interesting year." If her answering smile was in anyway indicative, she agreed.

 


	52. The Best Laid Plans

Harry spent the remainder of the feast catching up with Fleur. Apparently, the girl had decided to enter the Triwizard Tournament the very moment she heard about it, on her first day back to Beauxbatons. She had been overjoyed on competing and, as she mentioned to Harry in hushed French, she wanted to prove to everybody that there was more to her than a beautiful face.

"S'ils ne peuvent pas voir ça, ils sont aveugles. Ou stupides. Peut-être tous les deux." Harry had assured her, being certain of that fact himself; those who couldn't see Fleur as something more than a pretty face were undoubtedly both blind and stupid. His admission had earned him a wide smile and a swift peck on the lips that didn't go unnoticed from his fellow Gryffindors.

"What's wrong with the world?" Fred asked dramatically, his hands wide open, his eyes turned towards the enchanted ceiling.

"Never mind him." Harry said, smiling fondly as Fleur cast a critical glance towards the twin in question.

"Anyway," she said, turning her attention to the green eyed wizard once more, "what do you think of the tournament? Exciting, non?"

"Exciting would be understating things." Harry agreed; he shared a look with Neville who smirked widely at his words, before looking back at Fleur. "I'm actually planning on competing." Her eyes widened.

"Vraiment?" She asked, looking at him carefully. "But you are not an adult?"

"Technically, you see, I am." Her smile widened to match her eyes.

"An adult, you say?" Fleur's blue eyes twinkled as she leaned towards Harry, her smile turning into a smirk. "Do tell more, monsieur."

"You're going to compete?" Adrian asked bewildered, snapping out of his confusion. His gaze turned accusatory at his nonchalant twin. Harry simply shrugged; the more the days passed, the more he could see how Neville might have been right with his assessment. Adrian was jealous. Harry had spoken to Severus too and the potions master had simply reached the same conclusion. Still, in the past month since their talk on the subject, Harry had followed his father's advice to the letter; he hadn't tried to approach Adrian regarding his feelings towards him. Harry well knew, the hazel eyed Potter twin had trouble expressing his feelings on the best of days. Approaching him for a conversation of the sort would only be viewed as goading on his part; it was ridiculous for certain, but Adrian had a notoriously short fuse.

"I don't see why I shouldn't." Harry stated, cocking an eyebrow, trying to appear amused. "I certainly  _can_." And here we go again, he thought, the little voice in his head equal parts annoyed and sarcastic, as he watched Adrian's face turning red.

"But you… you… You can't!" Adrian spluttered, his gaze accusatory. The table had fallen silent around them, following the argument. Fleur was still expecting to hear an explanation as to how Harry was now an adult along with the rest of the Gryffindors around. Harry had kept his emancipation ritual private; he knew that people that knew of the latest requirement to be considered eligible for the Triwizard Tournament would put two and two together sooner or later and that the word would inevitably reach his parents; James and Lily would do anything for him to be excepted from the competition and -if one counted in their influence with the Ministry- they would, in all probability, succeed.

"He can, actually." Neville stated, taking a small bite from his cheesecake and chewing at a leisurely pace before further elaborating. "He's emancipated, remember? For all intents and purposes, Harry is an adult. His age is no longer relevant." The startled gasps and whispers around the table betrayed the surprise of his fellow students.

"Is that so, Mr. Potter?" Fleur asked mischievously. "You should have told me sooner!"

"I'm telling you now." Harry deadpanned, his answering smirk impish.

"Ruddy hell!" Ron exclaimed from his seat somewhere to the left, jaw hanging open, his face bright red. Ginny snickered audibly at the display -a dire contrast to Lavender and Parvati who just stood there looking half scandalized, half murderous- earning herself a surprised glance from Hermione.

"What?" She asked the older girl. "Ron can be quite amusing sometimes!"

"Well, as I was saying," Harry offered shaking his head in amusement, "I'm thinking of entering the Tournament myself. No harm in trying, I suppose." Fleur smiled back at him but, before she could manage to make a comment, the plates in front of them emptied and Dumbledore called for their attention; the Tournament would finally commence. Fleur pecked his cheek once and returned to her schoolmates in a hurry, while the green eyed teen turned his attention towards the staff table, a soft smile still lingering on his face.

The first thing he noticed was Severus; his father had obviously noticed his and Fleur's reunion and was smiling brightly at him, chuckling a little as he took note of the startled Gryffindors. The second thing was the professors had been joined by Mr. Crouch and Luddo Bagman; they would have to have been involved with the planning for the Tournament, that was certain. Maybe they would serve as judges too?

Dumbledore cut his pondering short as he started explaining what was about to follow; he greeted the two newcomers and then proceeded explaining about the age line he would create -that wasn't that much based on age, Harry inwardly commented- the number of the contestants and finally asked Filch to bring forth the casket that contained the Goblet of Fire.

The goblet itself would have been nothing special, Harry thought, carved from wood and slightly decorated as it was, if it wasn't filled to the brim with white and blue flames. That did, sort of, stand out.

"Harry?" Neville asked in a whisper, looking at his brother, his eyes alight with excitement.

"Yes, Nev?"

"You know how I said that I couldn't get why everybody was so hyped about a potentially lethal competition?" The teen continued.

"I can recall you saying something of the sort, yes." Harry teased Neville, his eyes filled with mirth.

"I get it now." They started chuckling, effectively breaking the silence that had covered the Great Hall after the appearance of the Goblet. That earned them the bewildered glances of the majority of the student body and a wide smile from Severus who coughed to cover his answering laughter at their reaction.

"I can see you take nothing seriously, Mr. Potter!" Neville mock-chastised his brother, ignoring the general scrutiny or the confused looks he was receiving for his uncharacteristic behavior.

"You are one to talk, Mr. Longbottom!" Harry bantered back. "Young people these days!" He added, his voice an almost perfect imitation of Augusta Longbottom. It was a lucky happenstance that the Headmaster had decided to start speaking once more for their second round of chuckling would have been the cause of a second round of confused glances and stares, there was no doubt about that in Harry's mind. Not that he truly cared.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mr. Crouch and Mr. Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the with the Goblet carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways… their magical prowess -their daring- their powers of deduction and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

Three tasks, Harry thought. He went through the information he had gathered from the books on the Tournament he had found in Silbreith. The last two tournaments before the event was deemed too dangerous consisted only of two tasks, in an obvious effort to give the contestants less opportunities of dying. When that had failed the tournament had been practically banned -around the same time during the nineteenth century when many a book from his father's library was supposed to have been destroyed by the Ministry's degree- only to now be reinstated.

But three tasks? That meant they had decided to bring the tournament back in full force, emulating its original form. And, he thought as he shared yet another look with his brother -Neville had pored over the same books he had been obsessing about during the summer- that meant that crazy stunts against mythical creatures weren't out of the question.

"Dragons." Neville mouthed, making Harry nod with barely concealed glee. This would be dangerous, he knew. But, if he was chosen, and did end up facing something as fierce as a dragon, coming out as the winner -a lot of ifs, but he had opted, for once, to have faith in his father's conviction that he was good enough and believe in himself too- he would finally know for certain that he was ready. That years of training had paid off. That he was good enough. That he had a chance to come out of this alive and protect the people he cared about too.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore looking around the room at the awed faces of the students, be them from Hogwarts or the visiting schools. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete."

"Everything  _always_  happens on Halloween!" Harry murmured as Dumbledore went on. Judging from the slight grimace on his father's face, Severus was clearly thinking along the same lines.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon any of you wishing to compete that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all." For a few seconds after the Headmaster's speech, nobody moved from their seats. Slowly, movement returned to the student body and the Great Hall was vacated, its occupants in various states of shock.

"Yep, I'm competing." Harry muttered as he and Neville avoided the rest of the students -too many questions to bother with and Harry's nerves were already in the brink of breaking despite his nonchalant attitude- while climbing the stairs to the dormitory.

"If you want my advice…"

"I always do, Nev." Harry assured his brother matter-of-factly, earning himself an arm over his shoulders and a warm smile.

"As I was saying, if you ant my advice, enter your name in the Goblet first thing in the morning." Harry regarded his brother speculatively.

"I was; I try to appear calm but…"

"You'd rather not have every single student in the school there when you place your name in the goblet." Neville finished for his brother. "I know. What I meant was Adrian might contact your parents tonight. If he does, they'll be getting the letter first thing in the morning." Harry's eyes widened as his brother explained his point of view; James and Lily! In the greater scheme of things he had almost forgotten them.

"Well, their reaction won't be pretty." The green eyed teen stated, voicing the correct password to enter the common room. "But you're right, of course." He looked at his brother solemnly. "You will be there, right?" He asked, making Neville regard him in confusion.

"Where?"

"When I place my name in the Goblet." Harry elaborated.

"You don't even have to ask." Neville stated, looking at his brother as if he had gone crazy. "Where else would I be?"

"Thank you." Harry simply stated, mock punching his brother on the shoulder before following him up the stairs to the dormitory.

He laid in bed that night, green eyes staring at the ceiling, sleep evading him up to the wee hours of the morning. This was happening. It was finally here, the moment he had been preparing for since he heard of the Tournament. There was a moment of panic there and then, he had to admit that. There was a moment when he stopped and thought, what am I doing? What am I expecting to gain out of this? Why would I even be chosen? It wasn't the first time he questioned himself not would it be the last, Harry knew. But he also knew that he would not forgive himself if he didn't try; and that was how sleep finally found him.

He woke up the next morning, not to the sun but to his nerves, coiling at the bottom of his stomach. It was still barely dawn and he had slept only for a couple of hours, he could tell. But going back to sleep? It was impossible. So, instead of trying, he dragged himself to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and showered, dressing quickly for the day to come. By the time he had gathered his courage to write his name down on apiece of paper, Neville had woken up too. They did not speak, they barely acknowledged each other save for a smile. But the oppressing weight Harry had felt last night seated on his chest somehow abated.

The Great Hall, the green eyed wizard found out, once he reached it, was still practically empty. It would have been completely empty, considering it was a Saturday, but the situation dictated differently. There were a few scarce students seated here and there, mostly seventh year ones, that were still uncertain whether they would compete or not. Dumbledore was also there, probably to watch over the process. And Severus was there too, intent on watching his son. Harry's smile reached his eyes for the first time that morning. Severus smiled back, albeit tiredly. He didn't seem to have gotten more sleep than his son had, but he was decided. If Harry was doing this then he would be there for him, every step of the way.

Harry smiled one more time, nodded to his father and punched his brother on the shoulder once before walking towards the Goblet. He could instantly feel the Headmaster's eyes on him along with the gazes of the rest of the staff and the few students in the Hall. He put a smile on his face, held his head high and walked, his steps taking him right to the edge of the golden circle Dumbledore had placed around the goblet; the age line. He stood there, looking at the flames for a few seconds, the parchment with his name written on it in his hand. He heard the clinking of the Headmaster's boots before he saw him standing next to him.

"You know, Harry, my boy, nobody will think ill of you if you do not enter your name in the Tournament." His blue eyes shone with what he believed was understanding. Harry wondered if Dumbledore would ever understand him or the reasons why he did what he did; the Headmaster worked for what he perceived to be 'the greater good'. Harry, on his part, just wanted to live in a world where he wouldn't have to hide or fear for his life. On the surface it seemed like they strived for the same things but Harry couldn't help but wonder sometimes if it was something different that spurred each of them on.

"With all due respect Headmaster, you're wrong." The old wizard frowned, ready to refute Harry's claim. " _I_  will think ill of me." And he stepped through the ward and into the circle. He smiled softly as he walked the five feet to the goblet. It was with a silent determination that Harry lifted his hand and placed his name into the goblet. The parchment light up for a second, orange embers lighting up on it before it disappeared into the flames.

"How did you do that?" A seventh year student Harry had never seen before asked, looking between the green eyed wizard and the Headmaster in confusion.

"Well," Harry stated, a ready smile on his lips now that he had finally taken that final step, "you know the saying; dura lex, sed lex."

"The law may be hard but it's the law." Dumbledore repeated in English. "If you're certain, Harry." The moment green eyes turned on blue, Harry could see the grandfatherly smile on the Headmaster's face and at that moment he knew -he simply knew- that Albus was certain that, even if he had managed to compete, there was no chance the goblet would pick him. We'll just have to wait and see, Harry thought, his eyes searching for his father and brother. The day would be taxing as it was. He would rather wait for the selection with his family.

"You did great, Harry." Severus said as his son approached him. "No matter what, I'm very proud of you." The potions master smiled widely and sincerely; there was a slight chance this Tournament would cause him a coronary by the end of the year. Still, he would be proud of his son to the very last moment.

"Thank you." Harry stated simply. "So, what do you say? Shall we find something useful to do with my day before I drive myself up the wall?" At that both Neville and Severus laughed, complying with his request nonetheless. They did their best to keep his mind of things for as long as possible. The Tournament wasn't even mentioned in passing and the Potter's weren't discussed. They would be dealt with when the time was nigh but not a moment sooner.

Instead they spoke of Quidditch and the Firebolt, of classes and the second animagus transformation Harry was finally feeling he was close to accomplishing; Severus had asked for lunch to be brought to his office and there they ate as the potions master talked to them of Haggrid's efforts to woo Madame Maxime. Harry wasn't certain if the image of Haggrid in his best -and only- suit was what made him laugh or his father's liberal use of the word 'woo'. Finally, night came, and with it the Halloween feast.

"Everything seems to happen on Halloween, doesn't it?" Severus asked, his eyes trailing over the assorted faces of the students around them as they walked into the Great Hall. Whispers followed Harry as the rumour of him placing his name in the goblet had spread during the day. He ignored everyone and everything, Adrian's glares included, and simply sat silently, nibbling through his dinner without true appetite.

"I just can't believe you did it." Hermione mumbled for the fifth time. Harry rolled his eyes and turned to her, intent of making her stop.

"Yet he did, Hermione." Ginny said, sounding bored and annoyed. "Now can we eat, please? Let it go." The older girl shot Ginny a dirty look that she ignored while Harry planned to get her the best Christmas present ever. If things kept going this way -the majority of the students around him treated him with a version of silent awe- he might just make it through the selection without hexing anybody. The next few minutes felt excruciatingly long; Harry reasonably knew it couldn't have been more than a quarter of an hour later but it had felt like forever to him. When the food from the golden plates was gone and Harry's heart felt like it was about to jump from his chest, Dumbledore rose from his seat and started speaking.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore. "I estimate that it requires one more minute. Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber" he indicated the door behind the staff table "where they will be receiving their first instructions."

"Crossing my fingers." Neville muttered, bumping Harry with his shoulder. The goblet's flames rose higher, burnt brighter as Harry's breath hitched. Any moment now. It was finally happening. Dumbledore extinguished all the candles with a swipe of his wand and the Great Hall remained illuminated only by the flames of the goblet that were fluctuating between blue and red.

The flames inside the goblet turned suddenly red again. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it as the whole room gasped. Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length, so that he could read it by the light of the flames, which had turned back to blue-white. "The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

"No surprises there!" yelled Ron as a storm of applause and cheering swept the Hall. Harry saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

"I'm surprised Karkaroff even brought other students with him, honestly." Neville commented as he clapped. Harry nodded, even if he had a feeling Krum would be a formidable opponent. The clapping died down soon after the moment a second piece of parchment flew out of the goblet.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!" Harry rose up immediately and started clapping along with the rest of the school, whistling even as Fleur made her way towards the door of the chamber Dumbledore had dictated. She turned around just before she entered and blew him a kiss. He was so happy for her behalf that he almost missed the third piece of parchment that flew out the Goblet.

"And the champion of Hogwarts," Albust Dumbledore said, his voice even, his eyes marginally wide. "Is Harry Potter!" The applause was thunderous this time, but Harry felt as if it was sounding from somewhere far off. He had been chosen. Neville hugged him tight before resuming clapping, urging him to move. The Gryffindors were practically roaring their appreciation as did the majority of the school. And Severus had stood up from his seat and applauded and cheered, his eyes shining with barely contained tears. Harry moved towards the chamber, smiling brightly, still scarcely believing what was happening.

The moment he walked through the door, silence fell in the room. Krkaroff and Krum regarded him curiously, the Durmstrang champion offering him a nod in acknowledgment. Madame Maxim simply looked at him while Fleur laughed and ran towards him, enveloping him in her arms.

"'Arry!" She called his name as he laughed and picked her up to spin her around. "We did it! We did it!" Harry put her down and smiled at her.

"We sure did!" He was about to comment more on their situation when the door opened once more and in walked; "Adrian?" It was his twin, Harry thought, albeit a much paler looking version of him. What was going on? Ludo Bagman walked in after him, closely followed by Mr. Crouch and Dumbledore.

"Extraordinary!" he muttered, squeezing Adrian's arm. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen . . . lady," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the three champions already in the room. Harry could already sense something was wrong. Adrian was shaking like a leaf and Bagman looked far too jubilant for anything good to have happened. "May I introduce -incredible though it may seem- the  _fourth_ Triwizard champion?" Well, crap, Harry thought as his eyes trained on his brother's pale face. Bloody Halloween.

 


	53. A Comedy Of Errors

The silence in the room was almost complete, if once excepted the crackling of the fire in the fireplace. 'Fourth champion', Bagman had said. As in Adrian, his twin. Who had apparently, not only competed for the tournament, but had somehow managed to be selected too. Harry took a few seconds to observe his twin; Adrian was pale and shocked as the rest of them and that could only mean one thing. However his name had been submitted to the Goblet of Fire, he had been ignorant about the fact until he heard his name being called. And that was worse, much, much worse, than having somehow worked his way around the wards placed on the goblet.

"Oh, vairy funny joke, Meester Bagman." Fleur said, a small smile edged on her lips as she observed the scene, clearly not wanting to consider the possibility of Bagman's words carrying some weight; there couldn't be a fourth champion. Right? Oh, how Harry wished that were true! But, upon seeing his father entering the room, a dark and confused look upon his face, he knew that wasn't the case. Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes with one hand, his mind going from numb to overdrive. How had this happened?

"Joke?" Bagman repeated, bewildered. "No, no, not at all! Adrian's name just came out of the Goblet of Fire!" Krum's thick eyebrows contracted slightly. Harry just stared at his twin, hopelessness and anger slowly igniting in him. Fleur frowned.

"But evidently zair 'as been a mistake," she said contemptuously to Bagman. " 'E cannot compete. 'E is too young." Her accent was even more prominent in her frustration.

"Well, it is amazing," said Bagman, his eyes twinkling as he looked at Adrian, "but the age restriction was only imposed this year as an extra safety measure. And as his name's come out of the goblet . . . I mean, I don't think there can be any ducking out at this stage. . . . It's down in the rules, you're obliged . . . I believe, Adrian will have to compete with the rest of you! Besides," he added, his eye trailing towards the other Potter twin, "Harry here's the same age and he has been selected too!"

"Zat is not ze same!" Fleur exclaimed, her eyes narrowing, her veela temper coming through; Bagman had to take a step backwards at her reaction.

"What Fleur means," Harry offered, placing a hand on her shoulder to placate her as he could at the moment, "is that I'm emancipated. Despite my age, I'm an adult." Bagman, who obviously hadn't heard that tidbit of information before, looked at Harry with renewed interest. Before he could comment however, the door of the room opened with a loud bang and in came Professor McGonagall, her face a mixture of shock and dread. Her entrance was enough to spur everybody into movement.

"What, in Merlin's name, is going on?" She asked, her eyes frantic.

Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable,

height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black-satin covered bosom swelled.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. " _Two_  Hogwarts champions? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two champions -or have I not read the rules carefully enough?" He gave a short and nasty laugh.

" _C'est impossible,_ " said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "'Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions. It is most injust."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile in place, his eyes hard in their stare, not only towards Adrian, but on Harry too. "And yet, here we have not one, but  _two_!"

"We had better stop arguing if we want to work this out." Said Severus, taking control of the conversation with a strong and collected voice. He looked towards his son once before he sighed and continued. "First of all, Harry is emancipated and thus an adult. He had every right to compete in this tournament and he did. Professor Dumbledore was already aware of this fact." The Headmaster nodded in agreement and so did Harry.

"And how do you explain the second champion then?" Karkaroff asked, his glare deadly.

"Adrian could not have placed his name in the Goblet alone." Severus stated, his tone disallowing his words to be contested. "No underage witch or wizard could." Albus nodded again and took a step towards Adrian, his blue eyes serious.

"Thank you Severus," the Headmaster said, his eyes taking in the now slightly calmer atmosphere in the room after the potions master's intervention. He moved yet closer to Adrian, his eyes boring into the hazel gaze of the older Potter twin. Adrian was fidgeting but managed to hold the Headmaster's gaze. "Did you place your name in the Goblet of Fire, Adrian?" He asked calmly.

"No." Adrian said, his frame shaking even more, the implications of what had just happened finally obvious in his mind.

"Did you ask an older student to place your name in the Goblet for you?" The Headmaster continued; Adrian was so stunned, he could barely form a coherent sentence.

"No." He finally stated, shaking his head decisively. Karkaroff snorted, earning himself a glare from the potions master.

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime.

"Didn't you listen to a word Severus just spoke? He could not have crossed the Age Line," said Professor McGonagall sharply. "I am sure we are all agreed on that…"

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz ze line," insisted Madame Maxime, shrugging.

"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely. McGonagall snorted loudly, her eyes on Dumbledore once more.

"Albus, you very well know you didn't make a mistake!" said she angrily. "Really, what nonsense! Adrian could not have crossed the line himself, and as Professor Dumbledore believes that he did not persuade an older student to do it for him, I'm sure that should be good enough for everybody else!" Her accusatory gaze was now turned to Karkaroff who promptly ignored her.

"Mr. Crouch . . . Mr. Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice oily once more, "you are our, er, objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"

Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Mr. Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice.

"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that those people whose names come out of the Goblet of Fire are bound to compete in the tournament." Said Crouch, making Harry's head spin; of course, he knew that the magical bond the goblet imposed on a contestant upon entering the tournament was binding but surely, the judges could see the danger!

"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.

"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," Said Karkaroff. He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire once more, and we will continue adding names until each school has two champions. It's only fair, Dumbledore."

"But Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out -it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament…"

"…In which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I little expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"No, you won't." Severus interjected, cocking an eyebrow and looking at the once Death Eater condescendingly. "We all know it."

"Exactly! Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave your champion now. He's got to compete. They've all got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?" Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was a loud  _clunk._

Convenient was one way to put it, Severus thought, his mind coming up with a million scenarios of how Adrian's name wounded up in the goblet. He already could tell it was nothing good; Albus seemed to be thinking the same. His questions to Adrian had been asked just for the sake of being asked; he already knew Adrian hadn't competed himself, no matter how much he might have wanted it. And now, Moody put what they were thinking to words; Adrian would have to compete now, no matter what happened. He was bound by an unbreakable magical contract. There was no way out, not from this one. Whomever had planned it, knew what they were doing and with Pettigrew on the loose, the possibility that a certain Dark Lord had started moving once more was clear in the horizon.

"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."

Harry could tell he was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists.

"Don't you?" said Moody quietly. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Adrian Potter's name in that goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out." And the pandemonium commenced. There was talk of how Adrian should be removed from his place as a champion and the need to give the other two schools a chance to even out the odds, how Adrian would have to compete and, finally, McGonagall -ever the practical mind- thought that maybe, just maybe, James and Lily should be informed.

"Well, this should be fun." Harry muttered, his eyes locking with Severus' as Albus walked towards the fireplace. Lily was the one to answer; she left to call James the very second she managed to comprehend what Albus was trying to tell her. Both her sons had managed to land themselves the position of Hogwarts' champion in the most dangerous tournament they could have possibly stumbled upon. As a result, it was only two minutes later when both Potters walked through the flames and into the chamber where the four champions and the assorted crowd were waiting.

"What do you mean  _both_  my sons are to compete in the Triwizard Tournament?" James seethed, his eyes landing first on the Headmaster and then on said sons. Adrian was looking at him, his almost identical hazel eyes pleading. Harry, on his part, simply rolled his eyes and shook his head. Fun indeed.

"What zey mean," Madame Maxime said, looking down at the two newcomers, "is zat, somehow, your son Adrian has been 'ailed the fourth champion!"

"What?" Lily asked, her eyes zeroing on her oldest son.

"I have no idea how my name ended up in the goblet, I swear!" Adrian exclaimed, his eyes pleading.

"I believe him, Lily." Albus offered, placing a hand over Adrian's shoulder.

"Then how did he compete?" It's not like I'm here too, Harry thought amused as James voiced his question.

"We still don't know." Dumbledore admitted, his gaze solemn. James fumed.

"You said it would be safe!" He exclaimed, his face turning red. "That there was no possible way Adrian could be affected by the tournament! You said he would be safe!"

"He should have been!" McGonagall stated, her tone strict. "Somebody else must have submitted his name on purpose!"

"From what I have heard so far," Albus said, his voice commanding attention. "Someone must have entered Adrian as the sole contestant of a fourth, imaginary school, making his selection certain."

"Do you believe a word you just said?" Karkaroff barked, his eyes not leaving James; the two men had history, Harry recalled and Prongs had been there when Karkaroff had been arrested.

"I would not interrupt again, if I were you." Severus offered, his voice cold; his dark gaze met Karkaroff's and Durmstrang's headmaster took a step back at its ferocity. Go Dad, Harry cheered inwardly, a soft smile in his face despite everything that had just happened.

He couldn't believe it really; Adrian would have to compete, it seemed. And as worried as he was for his twin's wellbeing and the reasons why he had been tricked into competing -trying not to think too hard on who the mastermind behind this bold move had been- a small part of him was stuck at the unfairness of it all. He had been chosen as the champion of Hogwarts; was it too much to ask for one year to be himself, without having to take care of his twin, before the war started? The Fates seemed to think so.

"And you!" James exclaimed suddenly, pointing at the potions master. "Do you have any idea how Harry, who's even younger than Adrian, managed to compete?" Severus chuckled once, humourlessly, his gaze now trained on James.

"Harry is an adult, did you forget already?" Severus said, his tone caustic as he drew himself to his full height. Assuming an almost regal posture and keeping his head high, he made for an imposing and borderline scary figure. It was just what he wanted to achieve, he thought, as he spoke again, driving his words home. "Harry competed on his own free will, placed his name in the goblet while at the Headmaster's presence and got selected to represent Hogwarts; from all the students that were willing, he was chosen by the Goblet of Fire as the rightful champion." The eyes of everybody in the room were wide and never left him as he spoke; he didn't care. He was proud of his son and he wanted everybody to remember that Harry was the one that was chosen to represent Hogwarts. He had earned the right after years of hard work and the potions master would be damned if he let anyone forget.

"You did this yourself, Harry?" Lily asked, sitting slowly on a chair next to the fire, her knees trembling. Harry, her youngest, had competed willingly in a tournament that could very well end his life? Why?

"Of course I did." Harry answered resolute. "And I have been chosen to compete by the only judge that could truly tell whether I was fit to or not. It's not me you should be worried about."

"How can you even say that?" James asked furious. "Did someone put you up to…"

" _No_!" Harry cut him off, his voice steely. It was his turn to have every pair of eyes in the room on him; his Dad was smiling in support from the other side of the room so he continued. "We've had this conversation before." He said, green eyes glinting in the firelight. "I have told you in the past and I will tell you again; I make my own choices. I  _chose_  to compete in this tournament, so I did. I didn't tell you I would for I knew how you'd react; honestly, I had no clue I would be chosen to represent Hogwarts but, since I am, I expect you to -if not support me- at least accept this fact. And before you start making any accusations," Harry added, as he observed James looking at Severus as if this all thing was his fault "Sev was against the whole idea of me competing. But since I had decided to, he chose to stand by me. So, as I said, I shouldn't be your concern right now." James and Lily stared at their youngest son startled, while Severus smiled proudly and -surprisingly- Victor Krum nodded appreciatively.

"I, for one, agree with 'arry." Fleur interjected, smiling at the raven haired teen next to her.

"In what sense, Miss Delacour?" Asked Dumbledore, distracted for a second.

"Zat 'e is the champion of 'ogwarts, of course!" She said, making Lily look at her with eyes impossibly wide and Harry chuckle once.

"Thank you for the vote of trust." He said, earning himself a radiant smile.

"Why not?" She asked. "Remember, mon cher, I 'ave seen what you can do with a sword!"

"Mademoiselle Delacour!" Madame Maxime exclaimed, making the vela shrug and wink at Harry.

"I take you have met before." Professor Dumbledore stated, causing Severus to mask his laughter with a cough.

"Yes, we have." Harry agreed as Fleur bumped him playfully with her shoulder.

"And why is this relevant?" Karkaroff exclaimed, pointing his ringed index finger towards Adrian. "Did you think we would forget about him?"

"Oui!" Madame Maxime agreed. "The money, the glory! We all know zis is a chance that many students would die for!"

"Maybe someone's hoping Potter  _is_  going to die for it," said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl. An extremely tense silence followed these words. Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said;

"Moody, old man… What a thing to say!" Lily hid her face in her hands while James spoke up.

"Is it that much far fetched though?" The conversation continued for half an hour before it was widely agreed -not with pleasure though- that Adrian was to compete after all. Bagman explained how the first task was designed to test their daring and courage in the face of the unknown and how it would take part on the twenty-forth of November. The two headmasters of the visiting schools and their champions left the room right after that, leaving behind the Potters, Dumbledore, McGonagall and Severus, who kept talking about the tournament, the two judges departing too. Harry, having heard enough already and feeling more and more frustrated at not being even acknowledged as he stood there and waited, asked for permission to leave.

"Harry," James said, looking at his youngest son in earnest, "I believe that this has been a very irrational thing to do; competing in the Triwizard Tournament! There is a reason why only seventh year students were seen fit to compete!" Harry's gaze turned cold, its ferocity boring holes in James as he looked at him over his shoulder.

"The goblet obviously thought I could do better than all these seventh year students, Prongs." He said, voice even, though all he wanted to do was scream. "If it had thought otherwise, would I be champion?" James opened and closed his mouth, once, twice, having nothing to answer his son's question. Harry smiled tiredly, shaking his head. "Goodnight then."

"I'm leaving too." Severus stated, stopping Harry as he walked through the door. "There's nothing I can say or do that will help at the moment. If you need me for anything, Albus, call for me immediately." The headmaster nodded and said his goodnights.

"And, Harry." Lily said, preventing her youngest son from leaving once more. The teen in question cringed and sighed, his breath coming out from beneath clenched teeth.

"Yes?" He asked, not bothering to turn back.

"It's not that we're not happy for you it's just that you're so young and you have barely started your fourth year and…"

"And you're worried, I get that." Harry stated, his eyes downcast; suddenly he felt tired and all he wanted to do was return to the Common Room and go straight to bed. Maybe talk a bit with Neville first, but still. "But you can't doubt me every step of the way; I was chosen for this."  _Don't make me doubt myself_ , were the words Harry didn't utter. Severus heard them loud and clear nonetheless.

"Harry, I…" Lily started again only to find herself interrupted.

"Goodnight." He said, walking out of the door and into the now empty Great Hall. He and Severus walked in silence for a few moments until they reached the staircase to the dungeons.

"No matter what, Harry," Severus said, turning his eyes towards his son, placing both hands on his shoulders, "I'm proud of you. I couldn't be more proud of you. Well," he amended, smiling softly "I expect you'll find a way to change that and do something even more extraordinary than competing in the Triwizard Tournament, but the sentiment remains the same." Harry laughed softly at that declaration, his eyes misting over.

"Thank you, Dad." He mouthed, not wanting to be overheard but unable to keep the words down.

"You're welcome." Severus said, smiling wide. "And no matter how much I worry -and you know I do- I'm not doubting that you can do this. I _know_  you can. I just worry." Harry smiled wider and nodded, hugging his father goodnight. The climb towards the Gryffindor common room felt too short to him as he stalked by floors without even paying heed to the gawking portraits.

This wasn't supposed to play out like this; this was supposed to be the year he and Severus would have to themselves, the short reprieve before the war. It was as if somebody was looking down upon them and laughing at how they stumbled through what life ditched at them. Hoping that somebody wasn't Merlin -he had liked him and he really would hate having to have to kick him once he eventually entered the afterlife- he spoke the password necessary to the Fat Lady and entered the Gryffindor common room. The combined cheers from almost each and every one of his fellow lions caught him by surprise.

"There you are!" Neville exclaimed, running forward and hugged his brother warmly. "I'll distract them if you want to slip towards your bed unnoticed." He murmured next to Harry's ear before and throwing a hand over his brother's shoulders and leading him towards the table with the butterbeers. Harry smiled at his brother's understanding, but opted on staying for a few moments. The atmosphere in the common room was cheery and such a dire contrast to how things had unrolled in the past two hours, that he felt the need to soak it in before getting some sleep.

"To our wild card!" Fred exclaimed, raising a bottle of butterbeer in a toast. "To Harry, who's been getting wilder and wilder as it goes…" loud cheers interrupted his speech and Harry couldn't help but mock bow at the attention. "To the guy that got wild enough to become champion!" The applause was thunderous -Neville was making a racket as it was, whistling and cheering at the best of his ability- and Harry smiled once more. Fifteen minutes later, and with Adrian still absent, he bid everybody goodnight and headed to bed, Neville soon following.

He was surprised to find there was one occupied bed already -the rest of the Gryffindors were downstairs waiting for their second champion- and he was even more shocked to realise the student occupying said bed was Ron. Crazy as it might seem, the red of his hair was unmistakable so Harry asked Neville to sit on his bed before pulling the curtains closed and casting a quick spell to prevent their conversation from being overheard.

"What the bloody hell happened?" Neville asked, not missing a beat and Harry answered, narrating everything and getting his thoughts out of his chest. He spoke for the next hour or so, explaining how everyone had reacted and how his parents had shown up. How Adrian would have to compete after all and how they all suspected -even if nobody dared to say it out loud in front of him- that Voldemort was behind this.

"And of course, everything went to hell." Harry stated, head over his knees as he started at nothing in particular. "What was I even expecting?"

"You were expecting a respite you had bloody well earned, that's what!" Neville said vehemently, breathing in deeply before he continued. "So Dumbledore thinks somebody entered Adrian's name under some school that doesn't exist?"

"That's the best he can think about; he doesn't know of my training so he figured out that, had Adrian been registered under Hogwarts, I wouldn't have been chosen. Not that he said that to my face, but his exact words were, I believe; 'Adrian would have been the third champion had he competed for Hogwarts. I suppose that whomever admitted him didn't want to take the chance'." Harry answered shrugging, trying to mask the sting of the Headmaster's words.

"You know, I have never wished to curse an old man before this moment." Neville offered, smiling widely, hi eyes glinting with anger. Harry laughed at his friend's antics.

"I needed to hear that." He admitted, green eyes sparkling with joy.

"It needed to be said." Neville offered flippantly, smiling back at his brother. Loud cheers were heard from the common room, toll-tale that Adrian had arrived. Neville shook his head and drew back the curtains, going to his bed while Harry headed towards the bathroom. He had barely managed to return to bed when the door opened and Adrian walked in. If he realised his twin was awake, he didn't show it. Instead, he headed straight for his bed, discarding his shoes en route, not even bothering with his clothes.

"Where've you been?" Harry heard his twin saying; he guessed Adrian wasn't referring to him and he was proved right when Ron answered.

"Oh hello," said the youngest Weasley male with a voice that sounded hollow even to Harry. The conversation that followed was just as crazy as the one after Adrian's name had been called out of the goblet. Ron didn't believe Adrian when he said he hadn't been the one to enter his name in the tournament and Adrian grew angrier by the second. They ended up screaming to each other before Ron drew the curtains of his bed closed in huff and Adrian rose from the bed headed to the bathroom and banged the door behind him.

"What a mess." Harry murmured, slowly falling into a troubled sleep. The next morning was just as insane as the day before. He had been getting congratulated right and left and so had been Adrian, although there was some speculation on how he had gotten his name in the Goblet; some even said it was Dumbledore himself that had done it or that Adrian too had gotten emancipated and had entered himself. It was Ron's reaction that had surprised Harry the most. The redhead had denied to as much as speak to Adrian and was actively trying to avoid him as much as possible. Harry had never felt more grateful to have been blessed with a brother like Neville; the two teens had spent their day laughing at the crazy theories and guessing what the first task could be, now that they knew it was supposed to test the courage of the contestants.

The second round of shock to hit Harry came two days later, while he was returning from potions class; he was venting at Neville, retelling how he had had to endure Rita Skeeter after Ollivander had tested the champions' wands and how the woman had almost dragged him in a broom closet before Severus intervened, when Neville shushed him, pulling him behind a corner and pointing at a group of Slytherin students that were arguing in the middle of the corridor.

"I'm telling you," Pansy Parkinson stated, her voice assuming a whiny quality, "Harry entered his brother's name in the goblet!"

"Makes sense." Mildred Bullstrode agreed, nodding her head eagerly. Harry rolled his eyes at Neville, making his brother smirk and point towards another member of the small party; the ashen blond hair of Draco Malfoy were easily discernable amongst the darker hair of his classmates.

"I think Dumbledore made him do it." Blaise Zabini added, agreeing with the two girls. "I mean, the old fool and the Potters have been friends forever; it wouldn't be difficult to have both brothers enter." Harry's eyes almost popped out their sockets as Draco audibly snorted.

"You don't think so, Draco?" Pansy asked, regarding the blonde critically.

"I believe Harry Potter wouldn't do something like that because he was asked to do it. Be the one that asked him Dumbledore or his brother." Neville, just as shocked at his proclamation as Harry himself was, looked at his brother mouthing;

"What just happened?" Harry simply shook his head in confusion, as the Slytherins spoke again.

"Say, Malfoy," Zabini spoke once more, "you've been acting weird lately. And now, defending a Potter? What would your father say?" That seemed to anger Draco, for some reason, causing the blonde Slytherin to look at his classmate scathingly.

"Drop it, Zabini!" Draco hissed, turning around and storming towards the Great Hall. The stunned Slytherin followed him soon, murmuring amongst themselves.

"Did we both listen to the same conversation?" Harry asked, looking at Neville in confusion.

"Depends." Harry offered numbly. "Did you hear Draco Malfoy defending my reputation too?" Neville nodded. "Then we did." The green eyed wizard stated, looking towards the direction Malfoy had stormed off to.

"The world has gone crazy, hasn't it?" Neville asked, staring to walk towards the Great Hall himself. Harry didn't even bother to consider his response before nodding in agreement.

 


	54. Are These Dragons? Called It!

It had been almost a week since Harry had been chosen as a champion and still he had managed to find out nothing concerning the first task. The week had passed agonizingly slow for a multitude of reasons; Ron was sulking, which led to Adrian sulking, which, in turn, led to Harry being unable to talk to his twin about the tournament as he had intended in the first place.

Harry and Severus had spend a whole night talking about how Adrian's name could have ended up into the Goblet of Fire only to stop at the crack of dawn, knowing that, no matter how many theories they came up with, the facts remained; Adrian would have to participate and that was that. To Severus, it was quite clear that Voldemort was somehow behind this whole mess; the why was clear, the how, however, was not. For if the Dark Lord had intended for Adrian to participate in the Triwizard Tournament, he would have to have found a way around Hogwarts' defenses and sneaked into the school.

The potions master had deemed that quite impossible and Harry was inclined to agree; though none of them underestimated Voldemort, it was obvious the man hadn't returned into full power yet. So walking through every single defense Hogwarts had? Impossible, especially after every ward Severus had helped the Headmaster place around after the incident in Harry's first year. Still, an inside job wasn't impossible; on the contrary, it was probably what had happened. But an inside job, when Voldemort was concerned, could have simply entailed a student under the Imperious curse, causing any more pondering on that line of thought to a dead end.

As it was, they had both agreed that the best course of action would be for Harry to help Adrian through; neither the potions master nor Harry knew what the purpose of entering Adrian in the tournament was. But, as it had been made unreservedly clear, contestants tended to die during the trials; an accident could potentially be easy to stage.

What Harry however had been adamant on was that, if he was going to help Adrian get through this -and he would, because he was his twin after all and he cared no matter what- he would do it out in the open. He would approach Adrian and offer his help; there would be no more hiding. Hiding was what he had done most of his life and he had finally reached a point where enough was enough.

Still, there he was, five days after he had made that decision, unable to find the opportunity to speak with his own twin in private. Wherever he went, he was accompanied by Hermione and was actively avoiding Ron, both teens looking more and more sullen as the days went by. It was ridiculous, in Harry's mind; these two were supposed to be best friends; they should trust each other, shouldn't they? On his part, Harry was certain, had Neville been in Adrian's position and had told him that he hadn't place his name in the goblet, he would have believed him in a heartbeat. But then again, had Neville been in Adrian's position, he would have already swallowed his proud and asked for help; Adrian didn't seem to be doing that either.

And it hadn't been just his twin he was avoiding on that matter; Lily and James -sometimes accompanied by Remus and Sirius- had become an almost permanent feature at Hogwarts. Harry knew his parents had both tried to approach Adrian with some advice and the teen had outright refused to talk to them, apparently incensed with being treated like a child. It made Harry want to hit his head against a wall -preferably repeatedly till he was rendered unconscious and happily oblivious of his troubles for a day or two- but Adrian was unshakable in his obstinacy. From the look of things, James was working his way into a coronary at the tender age of thirty five and Lily was displaying signs of her famed temper in an alarmingly increasing rate. Harry had just taken his distance from that imminent train wreck and had instead worked on catching his brother alone.

"Merlin's beard," Neville exclaimed during breakfast that day, "are Ron and Adrian still at odds?" Harry sighed the long-suffering sigh of a man resigned to the fact his blood relatives could sometimes be oblivious dunderheads -Sev's words, not his but accurate still- and nodded at his brother, fixing himself a bowl of cereal. Across the table, Ron had just turned his back on Adrian -the very moment the hazel eyed Potter had sat down next to him- and started talking loudly to a still groggy Dean Thomas, obviously ignoring his once best friend. Adrian had glared holes at the redhead's back for a few seconds before mirroring his actions and turning around to speak at Hermione, asking her whether she had time later that day to help him research at the library.

"Yes, they are." Harry answered Neville's question, running his fingers through his head. "You would have thought that they would have worked everything out by now, but no. They're just being obstinate idiots about everything and haven't even spoken a word to each other all week. Neither have Adrian and I, as you well know." Neville snorted, pouring his tea and looking towards Adrian and Hermione.

"How are you two related again?" He asked, shaking his head in wonder.

"Yeah, I know." Harry agreed, looking at his twin carefully. "Still, I don't know how I would have ended up without Sev." The green eyed wizard added in a lower voice, making certain only Neville could hear. "If Dumbledore has ever been right about something, that would be that family is the most important thing in the world; I was raised to be who I am today. If Sev and I hadn't stumbled on each other like we did, who knows what could have happened?" Neville looked at his brother seriously for one moment before shrugging and whispering back;

"It doesn't matter; it happened and you are who you are. And who you are has nothing to do with Adrian Potter; him being your twin changes nothing in that aspect." Harry regarded his brother with a soft smile before their conversation was boisterously interrupted by the Weasley twins.

"Hey there, Mr. Potter!" George stated, his grin wide as he took a place next to Harry, with Fred sitting next to him. "Just wanted to let you know that one Rita Skeeter has just been spotted outside the Headmaster's office, asking for an interview with you." Harry almost choked on his cereal; the woman had tried to interview him and Adrian privately after she had taken the regular statements from all the champions and would have done just that hadn't Severus intervened, charming his and Adrian's way out of the room and to their dormitories. She had been pushing for an interview ever since and Dumbledore was close to banning her from the school.

"Thanks for the heads up." Harry said, glaring at Neville who was happily snickering over his tea. "But how did you even know that?" He asked, looking at the twins speculatively.

"The portraits gossip, mate!" They chorused, an identical grin on their faces as they dug into breakfast. Harry just smiled fondly while Neville outright laughed. Everybody gossiped in Hogwarts, the green eyed boy thought to himself, looking around the Great Hall. The students would stop whatever they were doing occasionally and steal a glance towards one of the champions before returning to their breakfasts, chattering lively amongst themselves. The teachers too gossiped, Harry knew, and some of them were even betting on which champion would come up in the lead after the first task; Severus had informed him as much, scowling to everything in the room as he did, while Harry had simply laughed and advised his father to place a bet on him; he was going to do his damnest to come up in the lead. It had all turned more personal than he had originally thought when he had competed.

The ghosts gossiped too. Expected really, if one considered that they had few other things they could be doing. Apparently, the portraits gossiped. The only one who didn't participate in the pre-first-task excitement seemed to be none other than Draco Malfoy. Harry had to admit he was completely confused at the blonde's behavior; even now, he was seated away from his usual clique and had been much more silent than what one would have expected. He hadn't been throwing insults at Adrian and Ron -a favorite activity of his during the past years- and hadn't actively participated in anything other than classes since the beginning of term.

As strange his behavior was, however, there was no time to think on it, Harry realized, as his twin suddenly rose from his seat, leaving Hermione behind, and heading out of the Great Hall in a huff. It probably had something to do with whatever it was Ron was saying, judging by the slightly repentant look on the youngest male Weasley's face and the withering look his only sister was giving him at the moment. Harry stood up too, nudging Neville to make sure his brother realized where he was going. Neville nodded as Harry ran to catch up with his twin. He managed to do that, just outside the doors of the Great Hall. The corridor was relatively empty and his twin was unaccompanied which was all Harry could ask for.

"Adrian, wait!" He called, relived to see his twin stop a few feet ahead of him. He caught up easily and stopped next to Adrian, a soft smile edged on his lips. When had the last time he had spoken to his brother like that been? It was too long ago to remember clearly, he realized but shook the thought away, focusing instead on the present.

"Harry." Adrian said, acknowledging his twin, hazel eyes looking up to emerald green ones.

"I've been trying to catch you alone the whole week." Harry stated, looking at his twin carefully; Adrian was frowning and looked every bit as someone who would rather be anywhere else than having this conversation. Well tough, Harry thought and pressed on. "I've been meaning to talk to you."

"About how I entered my name in the goblet?" Adrian asked irritated, his gaze accusing. Harry frowned and shook his head emphatically; it seemed like Adrian was ready for a fight. He, however, didn't intent to hold one.

"No." He answered. "You said you didn't compete yourself and I believe you. That's what I wanted to talk to you about." Adrian seemed taken aback for a second as his twin claimed he believed him before his frown returned full force.

"Did our parents tell you to talk to me?" Harry shook his head negatively again.

"They have nothing to do with this." He assured Adrian. "Look, I said I believe you, okay? And because I believe you, I know you're in danger. No, let me speak." He asked, as Adrian was about to protest. "If somebody else placed your name inside the goblet then he couldn't have done it out of kindness; people die in this tournament, Adrian. And you being who you are, have enemies." Instead of listening to Harry however, Adrian's face flared read, his eyes narrowing into slits, his lips pressed in a thin line.

"Don't you think I know that? What you believe I can't handle them myself?" Harry took a step back, as his twin carried on, his voice getting louder by the second. "Newsflash, Harry! I've been training all my life; I'm not afraid of a few tasks! I've fought against Voldemort for Merlin's sake!" Even if the corridor had been half empty, Adrian's voice had started to gain them an audience.

"I'm not saying you haven't been training." Harry said, trying to keep his voice even and calm. "I know you have been. But, please, don't take these tasks lightly; people have  _died_  in this tournament, Adrian."

"What's that supposed to mean?" The hazel eyed twin asked, practically shouting at that point. "You think I won't be able to see this through? If anything, I'm more skilled than  _you_! Shouldn't you be worried about yourself?" Harry's eyes widened at the implication as his ire stirred.

"The goblet  _chose_  me, Adrian." Harry stated darkly, advancing towards his twin, the proximity making their height difference that more pronounced. "I chose to compete. I know what this tournament means. Do you?"

"Is this what this is about? You think I'm stealing your shot at 'eternal glory', or something? Afraid I'll beat you?" Adrian shouted, making Harry chuckle humorously while raising his hands in the universally acknowledged gesture for surrender.

"Ha! You know what? I can't have this conversation with you!" He said, looking at his twin as if he was a complete stranger. "I just wanted to say that I was worried about you. That, should you need any help, you're free to ask and this is all you have to say? I think you need to grow up first and then we can talk. The Triwizard Tournament is no child's play; get a grip, Adrian and stop treating this as a competition between us. It's anything but!" And he turned around, heading towards the greenhouses, Herbology being the first class for the day.

Harry was fuming and simply marched on, barely noticing where he was headed. How could Adrian be so stubborn? How could he think that all he cared about was fame and glory and all those things the Triwizard Cup supposedly stood for? Had he ever shown any indication that he was jealous of Adrian's fame? Had he ever done anything of the sort? He couldn't recall a single moment in his life that could have been mistaken for such an attempt.

He was still seeing red and as such, he didn't realize he had taken a wrong turn, at least not before he found himself in the borders of the Forbidden Forest behind the Quidditch pitch. He groaned and closed his eyes, his shoulder's crumpling as he covered his eyes with his left palm. How was he supposed to protect his twin if Adrian wasn't even willing to listen to him? Sighing and trying to control his rampant thoughts, Harry opened his eyes and pulled out his pocket watch. He still had half an hour before first period, so he wouldn't be forced to run back towards the greenhouses; that was something, at least.

As he was getting ready to walk back towards the castle, something drew his attention from inside the forest. Voices. Human voices from what he could tell. Could it be the centaurs? But no; this was much closer to the school grounds than the centaurs ever ventured. And there were other sounds coming from the forest too, like metal scrapping on metal. Harry realized he had two choices; one, ignore the strange sounds coming from the forest, turn back and walk calmly to Herbology class. Two, follow said strange voices through a dangerous forest and probably be forced to run towards the greenhouses after all. Well, the voices sounded from somewhere relatively close; his hearing was improved but not that much that he could catch sounds from far away in a dense forest. Probably no more than half a mile away. Still, it was half a mile into the forbidden forest.

"I hope I won't regret this." Harry muttered, pulling out his wand and marching into the forest; he kept his eyes and ears open for any possible threat but, apparently, he had nothing to fear; the forest seemed empty around him, the only noise coming from ahead of him. He walked as fast as he could without tripping on the roots under his feet and soon found himself closer to the voices. The light was coming brighter from amongst the next few trees and Harry slowed down, carefully approaching what appeared to be a clearing. Hidden in the shadows, he moved even closer; his jaw slackened slightly at what he found.

A little more than a dozen of witches and wizards were gathered in a large clearing, carefully building what seemed to be large metal cages of some sort. Four of them to be exact. A red haired man was shouting orders at the group that was currently levitating a part of the cage closer to him and Harry had to make a double take before he realized said man was none other than Charlie Weasley.

"Hurry, people!" Charlie commanded, looking up towards the sun concerned. "We should have already been done with these cages!"

"But the dragons won't be flown in till next Friday!" A man complained, turning to look at Charlie. "Why are we building the cages so early?"

"Because it'll take over a week to get the dragons ready for travelling and then there's the actual travel to be considered." A woman with dark brown hair and an Irish accent explained, sounding irritated, as if she had had this conversation many times before. "Everything must be set before we return to Romania."

"You heard the lady!" Charlie ordered once more, smiling at the woman next to him. "Carry on!" And he kept shouting orders at the workers while Harry backtracked into the forest, his head spinning. Dragons. Four dragons, to be exact, judging from the cages. Why would they need dragons near Hogwarts if not for the tournament? Oh, for Merlin's sake! Harry thought as he turned around and started running towards the greenhouses, stumbling his way through the forest.  _Dragons_! Neville would certainly want to hear this. Severus probably wouldn't, he added inwardly and chuckled as he exited the forest and flew by the Quidditch pitch.

He made it to greenhouse five where the rest of the fourth years had started to gather and took his usual spot next to Neville, completely disregarding the confused faces of his classmates. Neville looked at his brother carefully, waiting for the other teen to speak. When Harry, who looked decisively flushed, out of breath and somehow shaken, didn't utter a single word but simply stared at him, he decided to speak first.

"Are you alright?" Neville asked in a hushed tone. "I heard about how the talk with Adrian went. I should warn you, so did the whole school." At Harry's confused and slightly panicked look he elaborated; "We, kind of, heard the commotion from the Great Hall." Harry winced at that so Neville hastened to reassure him. "Not the exact wording, but Adrian was being especially loud. And, apparently, there were some students in the corridor that were only too happy to recount what they saw."

"Lovely." Harry said sarcastically, letting his head fall on the desk.

"It's not all bad." Neville offered, earning a challenging glare from his brother. "No, really!" The brown eyed boy exclaimed. "The way I heard it, you came out as the mature, calm one."

"That's something." Harry agreed, not really caring. Then his mood shifted as he remembered what he had meant to tell Neville in the first place. "But that's not what's important right now." That got his brother's attention, Harry noted, as Neville moved closer, arching an eyebrow expectedly.

"What happened? And where were you?" He asked, making Harry smirk. In a hushed tone, he proceeded to tell Neville exactly what had happened from the moment he had left Adrian at the corridor till he entered the greenhouses. Neville was almost jumping up and down in his seat the moment dragons were mentioned.

"Do you understand, Neville?" Harry asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. " _Dragons_!"

"I know!" Neville exclaimed loudly, earning himself a few confused stares from the assorted Gryffindors and Ravenclaws. "I know." He repeated much more subdued. "I  _so_  called it, Potter!"

"And now, I know what type of spells I need to look for!" Harry added, pulling out a new parchment from his bag and hastily jotting down what types of book he would need to look up. "Mr. Longbottom, will you do me the honor of accompanying me to the library for my research?" He asked, after feeling satisfied with the assorted list.

"You didn't even have to ask, Mr. Potter!" Neville assured him, as Professor Sprout entered the greenhouse, closely followed by Adrian and Hermione. Adrian was now avoiding both Ron and Harry, so his twin decided to avoid him back. At least until the afternoon. He knew he would have to tell Adrian about the dragons and he well planed telling Fleur too. Knowing about the dragons could well give him the edge in the competition, but that wasn't how he wanted to win. If he won, he wanted to be able to look back and say he had done so fairly. On that note, he would have to find a way to approach Krum too. After he told Severus, of course; the potions master had told him that the professors would be informed of what the task entailed a week before the actual event by the Headmaster, so he had actually managed to beat him to it. That conversation had the potential to be quite traumatic for his father.

The rest of the class passed by in a blur as Harry and Neville exchanged notes on what exactly would he have to do against the dragon; they had both eliminated the notion of actually fighting the dragon to the death. This wasn't the Middle Ages after all. The dragon was quite probably there to obstruct the champions from doing something else. Harry had a feeling the dragons would do an excellent job at guarding whatever it was they were supposed to guard. After the class was over, Harry told Neville he had to visit Severus and run to do just that, knowing that his father had only a one hour gap between this and the next period. He burst into the potions lab without bothering to knock, startling Severus who made a move for his wand before he realized just who had entered the room.

"Don't do that, Harry!" Severus exclaimed, placing a hand over his heart. "Are you trying to kill me? I could have hexed you, you realize that, right?" He asked, looking at his son in exasperation.

"Dragons!" Was the only answer he received. He tilted his head a little to the left, slightly concerned at his son's labored breathing. Still, Harry was smiling, so nothing tragic must have happened. Right?

"I don't think you understood me…" Severus stated.

"No, Dad, you don't get it;  _dragons_!" Harry repeated, moving closer. "I saw them -well I saw Charlie Weasley building their cages- in the forest!" The potions master looked as confused as ever. "The first task! It's dragons!"

"Oh, why didn't you say that to begin… with…" Severus said, his voice faltering as he went on, the meaning of what his son's statement seeping into his mind. Dragons. The first task had something to do with real, fire-breathing, lethal, vicious dragons. His baby boy would have to face a bloody  _dragon_. He could practically feel the blood leaving his head as the room spun; he took a measured step backwards and sat on the corner of his desk.

"Dad?" Harry asked, taking a step forward. "Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not alright!" Severus exclaimed, his voice panicked. "Dragons! What were they thinking! Making children face grown dragons!" His hands flew into his hair, pulling slightly at the thick strands. Harry smiled softly, placing a comforting hand on his father's shoulder.

"At least I know what I'm up against." He said, trying to sound as soothing as possible. "I mean, we always knew the tournament trials were difficult…"

"But  _dragons_?" Severus whined, pulling his son in for a hug. "Have the Ministries responsible lost their collective minds?"

"Well, dragons have been used before in Triwizard Tournaments." Harry offered, only resulting in his father tightening his hold on him. "I mean, at least there will be no fight to the death this time. The law for the protection of magical creatures forbids the slaughtering of dragons."

"Yes, thank Merlin the dragons will be protected!" Severus exclaimed sarcastically, letting go of his son before standing up and pacing around the classroom. "I'm going to give you a list of books I want you to read from the library and I want you to tell me exactly what strategy you'll come up with to face the dragon, alright? I can tell you straight away that their eyes are their weakest spot…" Severus began as Harry wrote down the titles of the book his father suggested. It was only after Severus had exhausted all the books he could recall when something in his son's original statement creeped back into his mind. "You said you saw the cages being built in the  _forest_? As in, the Forbidden Forest?"

"I can absolutely explain that!" Harry offered, retelling the story of what had happened that morning -Severus had heard the commotion too, but hadn't been aware of the rumors that had circulated afterwards- including how he ended up in the forest and how he was planning on informing the rest of the champions.

"You understand I'm not exactly exhilarated of you walking into that forest, Harry." Severus stated, rubbing his face tiredly. "But, seeing how everything turned out, I'm glad you did. Promise you won't repeat it though; if you ever need to go into the forest again, contact me and I'll come along."

"I promise." Harry stated seriously. Severus nodded.

"And I agree with you; since you found out, you should inform the other champions." He was proud that his son had realized what he had to do on his own though not surprised; Harry's moral compass was well-tuned as the teen had proven time after time. "And I'm sorry about Adrian. You didn't deserve to hear that." It was his turn to place a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder as the teen shrugged.

"I knew he was stubborn, but this is quite stupid." Harry said, his eyes locking with his father's. "I mean, all I wanted to do was offer him my help."

"That would be pride." The potions master stated, shaking his head. "You couldn't have done anything else differently, Harry. He wasn't ready to listen yet."

"I hope he will be soon." Harry offered, smiling softly. "He needs to know about the dragons after all." Severus nodded in agreement. A few moments later, the first students started gathering for their lesson and Harry bid his father goodbye, heading for his Ancient Studies class.

He spent the whole day trying to get hold of the rest of the champions. Surprisingly, it was Victor Krum he happened upon first, in the library of all places. And therein lay the problem; the Durmstrang champion was, as per usual, surrounded by his fanclub. Neville, who had followed Harry into the library to help with his research, rolled his eyes at the scene; a few girls were bold enough to sit across Krum and bat their eyes towards his direction, flipping their hair now and then. Katie Bell, who was seated a few desks to the left snorted audibly, hiding behind her charms book the moment Madam Pince glared at her.

"How do you plan on approaching him exactly?" Neville whispered, writing down some of the information he had found on a book cataloguing the basic characteristics of dragons.

"You know me, Nev." Harry whispered back. "I'm good at thinking on my feet." And he stood up, heading towards Krum, trying to come up with a reason why he would want to interrupt him from his work. He had had a sudden epiphany the very moment he tapped the older boy's shoulder. The girls across the table looked at each other in interest before turning back to stare at the two teens.

"Who is…" Krum begun complaining -more like growling- only to stop when his eyes fell on Harry. "Oh." He said, his demeanor calmer but slightly confused. "Vat can I do for you, Mr. Potter?" He asked, his accent making a few of the girls sigh quite audibly.

"I'm glad you asked actually." Harry stated, smiling widely, fully aware Krum's fanclub was listening in to their conversation. "I've been wondering, have you heard of my latest design? The Seeker's version of the Firebolt?" Krum's eyes lit up at the mention of the broomstick, notifying Harry that yes, he had heard about his latest design.

"Of course." Krum answered, a hesitant smile on his face. "Vy do you ask?"

"I was wondering if…" His voice was a bit louder this time and, sure enough, Madam Pince, cleared her throat, indicating he should lower his voice. Harry held back his smirk as he turned his attention back towards Krum. "Would you mind if we took that outside for a second; the librarian is quite strict and I don't know when we'll run into each other again, what with the task coming up and everything."

"Sure." Krum offered, collecting his bag and following Harry out; the green eyed wizard winked at his brother as he passed him by and Neville smirked back. He walked out of the library, Krum in tow, making sure the girls hadn't followed them out. When he realized they hadn't, he started talking again.

"The first task will be about dragons." He stated calmly, watching Krum's eyes widen in shock.

"Vat?" The older boy asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Dragons." Harry repeated, looking around for any audience. "I happened across their cages this morning in the forest."

"Vy are you telling me this?" Krum asked, his eyes suspicious.

"Because I wasn't supposed to know but, since I do, I believe it's only fair we all know." Harry explained.

"That's very noble of you." Krum stated, the mistrust in his face turning into something oddly resembling respect.

"It's not." Harry stated with a smirk, making sure Krum knew he was joking. "I just wanted to beat you fairly, that's all." The Durmstrang champion surprised him by laughing out, a deep but true laugh.

"I see." He said, clapping him on the shoulder. Harry smiled back at him.

"And, since I spoke about the new Firebolt, I was thinking you might like to give it a go?" Krum's eyes lit up once more and his smile widened. "I will have mine shipped over in December, so maybe you would like to test it?"

"I could do that, yes." Krum said, nodding vigorously. "I might like you, Potter." He added as an afterthought.

"What's not to like?" Harry asked, making Krum smile once more. One of the girls that had been standing across him in the library peeked around the corner and the Quidditch player sighed as he turned to look at a smirking Harry.

"I must go. Thank you, Mr. Potter." He said, walking away from the library and his fans.

"Don't mention it. And call me Harry." Krum nodded once before stating;

"Then call me Victor."

"See you around then, Victor." The older boy nodded once more and left. Harry turned around and headed back to the library, passing by the now wide eyed girl that had followed Krum and himself out.

"So, how did it go?" Neville asked his brother as the teen sat sown next to him.

"One down, two to go." Harry stated, turning his attention back to the book he had left open on the desk, trying not to think about how much easier it had been to talk to a brooding international Quidditch player than to his own twin. He had managed to get a hold of Fleur just before dinner that afternoon. The girl had been shocked to say the least, but had thanked Harry profusely for telling her. Harry had only said the same thing that he had told Krum; it was the fair thing to do and it didn't matter that he would be losing some advantage in the tournament.

Fleur had responded to that statement by kissing him straight on the lips, shocking a few third year old Hufflepuffs to a standstill. Harry had smiled into the kiss and, not being one to just stand then and allow himself to be snogged senseless -though he did not exactly complain- had quite eagerly reciprocated. They had walked into the Great Hall together, the rumors of what exactly had happened between the two spreading like wildfire across the room. Harry, who was still smiling widely, found himself completely indifferent to their gossiping this time around.

He had managed to get a hold of Adrian just after dinner; he had had to actually hold his twin by the arm as he spoke to him, the hazel eyed teen not wanting to hear a word he had to say.

"The first task is dragons." Harry spat, not knowing what else to do to silence his complaining twin. "The other champions already know. I figured I should tell you too." And he walked away, leaving a very confused and finally silent Adrian in his wake. He climbed the stairs towards the dormitory and fell on his bed face first, quite certain he would rather face an angry dragon than try to make his twin to see sense.

 


	55. The First Task

The days went by in the same fashion, only succeeding to make Harry even more aggravated as they passed. Adrian was still being stubborn and had refused to even acknowledge him, let alone ask anybody for help. At least Hermione was helping him research in the library, much as Neville did with Harry. After the first couple of days the green eyed wizard had decided that it was time to look out for himself too; Neville had breathed out in relief and told him 'it was about bloody time' to do just that the day when Harry had expressed his wish to focus on the dragon he was to face rather than the one his twin would fight against.

And so, he had taken his own advice and had spent the next week poring over every book on dealing with dragons he could get his hands on. He had been surprised to find out that the fire that burned in the heart of a dragon was magical, but then again, that did explain the reason why dragon heart strings were used as wand cores. Every single book he and Neville -and Severus, who Harry suspected abused his status as a professor to spend half the night in the library researching on dragons himself- pointed out that yes, a dragon's weakest spot was indeed his eyes. And though he was certain he could get a good curse to strike a dragon in the eyes, somehow, as the days passed, he was becoming more and more determined to complete the task in the most spectacular way possible. Call, him vain, he had decided, but he wanted this one thing for himself; he needed it.

In any case, he practiced a selected few stinging curses that were both powerful -but wouldn't damage a dragon in the long term- and had a good long range-accuracy ratio. It never hurt to be prepared. It was one afternoon, two weeks before the first task, while Neville and Harry were looking into a very promising, large scale spell, when Remus and Sirius walked into the room, looking for the green eyed Potter twin. Harry barely managed to shoot a confused glance at Neville before his godfather and uncle took seats across the table from them.

"Hey, kiddo!" Sirius greeted him, completely disregarding the fact they were in the library.

"Sirius." Harry whispered, his timbre low as he hadn't actually spoken for the past three hours.

"We wanted to talk to you about something." Sirius explained, his voice still too loud for the library. It was no surprise, of course, when the librarian asked him to either lower his voice or leave. And it came as no surprise either when Sirius opted to leave, asking Harry to follow him. Neville simply shook his head negatively when Harry motioned him to come along, a soft smirk on his face. He hadn't told Harry, in case of being proven wrong, but he had had a feeling that, from all his family members, these two would be the ones to approach his brother first, offering what advice they could give. He watched them leave the library before getting back to what he was reading, smiling softly.

"So, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Harry asked, once they had walked out the room.

"Would you fancy joining us for a walk?" Remus asked, shooting Sirius a furtive glance. "It's harder to be overheard when walking." The werewolf explained as Harry nodded, smiling a little at their paranoia.

"Lead the way." The teen said, and the two Marauders did just that. "So, now that we're walking," Harry continued, "would you like to explain what this is about?"

"Let's start by stating we're proud of you, kiddo." Sirius stated, smiling goofily at his godson. Remus, who was walking on Harry's left was smiling widely too; he looked younger somehow, Harry noted, more relaxed. The Wolfsbane had done wonders, it seemed.

"Thank you." Harry offered, smiling back at them. These two -well, Sirius mostly but Remus had the tendency too- could be quite blunt about how they felt; they would keep their distance, sure, but when they deemed it was time to speak, they would say what they thought or wanted outright.

"No need to." The werewolf assured him. "But that's not the point of our visit." And straight to the point, Harry thought fondly, his eyes sparkling.

"I'm guessing this has something to do with the tournament?" Harry asked, looking at the two adults.

"Correct." Remus offered.

"Go on then."

"First, I have to ask," Sirius began, "have you any idea what you'll be up against?" The dog animagus paled as he worded his question, probably picturing a feral dragon in his mind. He did however look quite determined, as if he was going to proceed with what he had in mind no matter what Harry's answer might be.

"I'm not supposed to." Harry answered, smirking playfully, trying to lift his godfather's spirits a bit. The two adults shared yet another confused glance, not quite knowing what to make of his answer.

"Look, Harry, I understand you're not supposed to know," the dog animagus continued, "but I should tell you Dumbledore has been asking around and he may or may not have let it slip that the other contestants already know…" Harry chuckled, effectively cutting his godfather's explanation short. Of course Dumbledore would do something like that; probably thinking it was the fair and decent thing to have all champions informed like Harry himself had.

"They should know." The teen stated, chuckling once more. "I told them, after all."

" _What_?" Sirius and Remus chorused, their expressions the picture one would expect to find in a dictionary under the definition of 'disbelief'.

"The fact that the first task is about dragons. I told them." Harry explained, after looking around carefully, making sure the corridor was empty; it was, of course. After all, if anybody would know the best places to talk about stuff you didn't want to be overheard would be the Marauders and two of them had led the way.

"How did you find out?" Sirius asked, the confusion in his eyes slowly but steadily being replaced with amazement.

"Considering I'll probably get in trouble should I tell you, I'll refrain from answering that." Remus was about to protest, so Harry hastily added; "Look, it doesn't matter how I found out. And before you ask, I thought it was only decent to inform the rest of the champions; I want to compete fairly and since I knew, everybody should."

"As Sirius said," Remus spoke, after clearing his throat, his voice thick with emotion, "we're very proud of you." His eyes glistened with what Harry realized were tears, so he smiled as bright as he could, panicking slightly; he hadn't intended to make them cry, for Merlin's sake! Sirius threw a hand over his godson's shoulders and returned the teen's smile with a toothy grin of his own.

"You're a great kid, Harry. Well, a great young man." He amended, chuckling slightly.

"If you say so." Harry offered, trying not to blush -and failing miserably at it.

"Now that we covered that," Remus picked the conversation up from where they had left it before Harry's revelation, "we can get to the main reason why we wanted to speak to you." The green eyed wizard nodded expectantly, waiting for them to continue.

"Do you have a plan on how you'll face the dragon?" Sirius asked, being blunt once more. Harry smiled.

"Their greatest weakness is their eyes." The teen explained, causing both adults to nod appreciatively. "I have been researching and practicing on long range stinging spells for the past week. I'm also working on some fire repellent shields developed specifically by people working with dragons. I'm quite good at them, actually."

"You're in this to win, aren't you?" Sirius asked, sighing and running his free hand through his hair, reminding Harry so much of his father, he had to try his best to hold back his laughter.

"Why else would I have competed?" Harry asked, smiling once more.

"That's true." Remus agreed, shaking his head. "It appears our assistance wasn't needed after all." Harry regarded both men in contemplation, staying silent for a while as they walked. The two Marauders had led him through the castle's corridors, making a circle back to the library.

"May I ask your help with something?" He finally said, stopping as the doors of the library came to view.

"Anything, kiddo!" Sirius exclaimed.

"Adrian isn't talking to me at the moment." Harry admitted, looking between the two older wizards; they didn't seem surprised so they had probably been informed about that too. "Has he been listening to our parents? I know they have tried to approach him this last week." The teen continued.

"Not really, no." Sirius informed him. Harry sighed in exasperation.

"Damned pride!" He muttered, staring at nothing, lost in thoughts of the last conversation -if one could call it that- he had had with his twin. "Look, could  _you_  approach him?"

"You think he might listen to us?" Remus asked, slightly confused.

"Hey, you're the cool, fun uncles!" Harry exclaimed, causing Remus to laugh and Sirius to puff his chest in mock pride. "Seriously though, if he'll listen to anyone, it will be the two of you. Help him, if you can, okay?"

"Of course, Harry." Remus said, smiling fondly at the teen, his brown eyes kind. "You're a good brother to him."

"Trying my best." Harry admitted, willing down the bitterness as much as he could. You have no idea how much I'm trying, he added mentally.

"We'll talk to him." Sirius offered, his tone solemn. "You worry about yourself; leave Adrian to us." Harry smiled and nodded.

"Thank you. I really do."

"Don't mention it, Harry." Remus said. "We should let you return to your research then. And if you need something else…"

"If I reach a dead end, I'll ask for help. But I am supposed to be doing this on my own and, even though I'm not suicidal, I assure you, I owe it to myself to try." Sirius and Remus nodded as Harry waved at them before turning around and returning to the library to tell Neville everything that had just transgressed.

The rest of the week passed in almost the same manner; the spell Harry had discovered was proving to be quite handy. The fire in a dragon was magical and it could only be countered by ice of the same kind. The spell he and Neville had discovered promised to do just that, but came with its own drawbacks. For one, the dragon would have to be more or less still while the spell worked. Once it was completed, the dragon would be unable to move, that was true, but the same could be possibly said about Harry; apparently, the spell was disturbingly taxing on the caster and Harry had no idea how it would affect him, being unable to cast it in full scale as he wished. There simply was no spot he knew of in Hogwarts where he could freeze the equivalent of a dragon in size without causing some damage or drawing attention. He hated to admit it, but it seemed he would have to go with the stinging curses after all.

It was the Sunday before the task when Harry's world was thrown off balance once more. It had been decided that that Sunday would be the first Hogsmeade outing of the year and the school was abuzz with expectation. Harry, as one could expect, had trouble focusing on the outing itself; the past two nights he had slept dreadfully, nightmares of what he was about to face haunting his mind. That morning he had debated with himself on whether he should actually go to Hogsmeade or stay at school and try to find a place where he could practice the spell he had found. Neville had put his foot down the very moment Harry had tried to express his thoughts.

"You're going stir crazy in the castle, Harry!" Neville had exclaimed in the middle of the common room, disregarding the startled looks he received. "You need to get out and will get out, even if that means I'll have to drag you out myself!" And then he had clasped his brother's hand, shooting him a look that clearly said 'for a supposedly smart guy, you can be completely stupid sometimes' and dragged him out the common room and towards the grand staircase as promised.

That was how they had found themselves walking into the Three Broomsticks; Severus, who was seated with the other three Heads of Hogearts' Houses and Hagrid in the far corner of the tavern smiled brightly at his son the moment he entered, waving at him as Harry did the same. Then he nodded at Neville, his eyes sparkling mischievously; Neville nodded back and the green eyed wizard could practically taste the conspiracy. It seemed that his father and brother had ganged up on him, in their effort to drag him out of the castle. Smiling fondly and looking at Neville, rolling his eyes, Harry walked towards the bar.

"What?" Neville asked, noticing his brother's exasperated expression and correctly guessing the origin of the feeling behind it. "You had to get out, Harry!"

"I know." Harry agreed, before ordering butterbeers for both of them. "And I thank you for not letting me rot in the castle, believe me."

"I sense a 'but' coming my way." Neville muttered, making his brother laugh.

"But," Harry began, "I can't stop thinking about the task." He paid for the butterbeers and sat on a barstool, all tables around him occupied. Neville mirrored his move before turning to face him.

"Look," he said, regarding his brother intently, "I know you wanted to do something spectacular for your first task. But you have a good plan and you'll get pass that dragon no matter what happens; in the end, that's all that matters."

"Slow and steady wins the race, you mean?" Harry offered, somehow irritably. He sighed, trying to regain his composure; the last thing he wanted was to snap at his brother. "Sorry, Nev. It's just that, nothing in this tournament has turned out as it was supposed to. Not that my plans ever do, but I had expected… I don't even know what I had expected!"

"Definitely not competing against your twin." Neville offered, understanding the root of Harry's problem. The green eyed wizard nodded.

"I know it sounds petty, but I wanted to do this for me. You know what's coming." Harry added, his voice lowered. "I might not get another chance at something like this before the war and here I am, practicing stinging spells of all things!" He was frustrated and it had started to show, he knew that, but he found there was little he could do to stop himself.

"Hey, Harry!" A familiar voice sounded behind him; it turned out to be Terry Boot from Ravenclaw, a boy in Neville and Harry's Ancient Runes class. "Everything ready for the task?" He asked, smiling brightly. "I have money on you!"

"Yeah." Harry muttered, his head swimming. "Everything's great!" Terry smiled once more and left, taking his own butterbeer and heading towards his table where he passed the news to his friends; they all turned and raised their bottles and glasses towards Harry in a toast, as the raven haired teen mirrored them mechanically. The moment they turned away, Harry turned towards his brother so fast his neck complained and he almost propelled himself off the barstool. His eyes were wide and he had gone completely pale, his breathing shallow, showcasing the symptoms Neville was shocked to recognize as the forewarning of a panic attack.

"Harry, are you alright?"

"People are  _betting_  on me?" He asked, his voice an octave higher than usual.

"Uhm… I thought you knew?" Neville asked and Harry's eyes went -if that was possible- even wider. "What do you say we take our butterbeers and get out of here?" Neville pressed on, hoping some fresh air would help. Harry nodded and stepped up swiftly, having to steady himself for a moment before he could walk away. Neville followed, sending Severus a reassuring glance as they passed his table.

The two teens walked out in the clear ear and Harry could feel his head clearing a little the very moment the door closed behind them and the noise of the many people in the tavern was muffled. He had no idea what had just happened to him; he had competed in front of an audience before. He had, after all, won a jousting tournament just a few months ago. He couldn't be panicking now! He wanted to do this!

"I don't even know what happened in there." Harry admitted as Neville motioned for him to walk further into the village. There were students all around, some shopping, some simply hanging out and Neville tried to determine the best course of action; he knew Harry needed some time to clear his head and for that he would need privacy. The only place that guaranteed that in Hogsmeade would be the Shrieking Shack. To the Shrieking Shack we go then, Neville thought to himself, slowly guiding his brother towards that direction.

"You're stressed, Harry, that's what happened." He answered to his brother reasonably, waiting for him to continue.

"I don't get it; I have been under pressure before. I mean I fought against a basilisk! And against Voldemort;  _twice_!" He shook his head, breathing deeply, berating himself all the way. He couldn't afford something like that happening; not now. "And let's not mention the Death Eaters! What's wrong with me?"

"It's called being human." Neville answered, looking at his brother. "You have been researching and practicing non stop for the past two weeks and on top of that you have to worry for your twin who managed to find himself in a life and death situation  _again_. That's not easy, Harry. You're selling yourself short if you think it is."

"I can't crack under pressure, Nev!" Harry exclaimed, trying to make his brother understand. "My survival depends on being able to act under pressure!"

"And when did  _pressure_ , of all things, stop you before?" Neville asked, smiling slightly at his fuming brother. "You're facing a dragon next week. You're entitled to being scared. Even Krum looks paler than usual and I'm almost convinced the man is made of stone!"

"Neville…"

"No, listen to me! No matter how scared you are, no matter if your plans to do something spectacular in the first task fall through, are you planning on giving up? If you could, would you chose to quit the tournament?" Neville asked, delighting in how his brother seemed more and more irritated with every word; that clearly meant he was returning to his normal self, after all.

"Are you crazy?" Harry asked, looking at his brother in disbelief. "How could you even say that? I'm facing this dragon even without my wand if I have to! If I killed a basilisk with a  _sword_ , you bet I can…" Seeing Neville's wide smile, Harry immediately ran out of fume and blushed, realizing exactly what had happened. "I'm a moron, aren't I?" He asked, shaking his head in exasperation and rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"I wouldn't go that far." Neville offered, laughing at his brother's flushed face. "You just needed to get that out of your system. That's what this tournament is for, after all, right? It's a simulation of a war. Get out of this unscathed and you bet you can hold your own against the Death Eaters. After all, what could be more nerve racking than facing an angry dragon?"

"Facing an angry Voldemort." Harry deadpanned, smirking slightly.

"And suddenly you're a comedian." Neville stated unimpressed.

" _I_  found it funny." Harry defended himself, green eyes sparkling mischievously.

"No, really, don't quit your day job." Neville persisted, shaking his head. They stopped in their tracks and looked out each other, faces completely blank. For a second or so, that is. It was only natural, Harry thought, that they started laughing so hard that, when he managed to catch his breath, he found himself on the ground, holding his sides.

"Merlin! I needed that." Harry admitted, still chuckling occasionally, picking himself up from the ground. "Thank you, brother."

"I know you did. And don't mention it." Neville assured him. "We're ridiculous though." Harry nodded, finding himself in complete agreement as he tried to get rid of all the dirt on his trousers.

"Yes, we are." He stated, looking at his trousers skeptically and then shrugging, pretty satisfied he looked decent enough. "We are…" He looked around skeptically, realizing for the fist time since he had stepped out the Three Broomsticks that he had no idea which route they had taken. "Where are we?"

"Near the Shrieking Shack." Neville explained, pointing further down the road; Harry could clearly make out a tattered roof over the trees in the distance. "I figured you'd need some privacy."

"You were right." Harry said, looking around. "You know, I have never really visited the Shrieking Shack."

"No?" Neville asked, looking at his brother in confusion. "Well, grandma took me there when I was little and she visited a friend of hers that lives in Hogsmeade. Not that there's anything to see, but we could walk there; it's not that far away."

"And I don't really want to return to the pub, thank you very much. I can practically taste the headache at the mere thought." Harry stated. He still needed the peace and quiet and the Three Broomsticks would still be packed with students.

"So, what say you we pay the Shrieking Shack a visit?" The brown haired boy asked, smiling at his brother.

"Why not?" Answered Harry. And so they walked, talking -in a much calmer manner- about the task. It wasn't long before they reached the clearing where the old house was located. It must have been a manor once, Harry realized, judging from its size. Maybe it was one of those magical residences whose families had died out. Well, even in ruins, it had served its purpose; Harry couldn't even recall how many stories about that place he had heard growing up; if one was to believe Sirius, this crumbling house was heaven on earth. In the light of recent events, Harry doubted it.

"Unbelievable." He heard his brother's voice from somewhere on his left.

"Yeah, I know." Harry agreed, looking at that ready-to-cave-in roof. "It still stands!"

"No, not that!" Neville muttered, causing Harry to look at him in confusion. His brother was pointing a bit further down the road, right next to the fence of the Shrieking Shack; a lone figure stood there, his back turned to the two brothers. A lone figure with unmistakable ash blond hair.

"You have got to be kidding me." Harry whispered, looking at Neville in exasperation; Draco had made himself sparse the whole term so far and, the one time Harry needed to be away from people, they ran into him.

"What do we do?" Neville asked. Harry never got to answer. He wasn't sure if Draco had heard them, or he had just decided to turn around and leave, but the fact remained that he did turn around and looked straight at them. "Oh joy!" Piped Neville as they observed Malfoy freeze for a moment before squaring his shoulders and walking straight at them.

"What are you doing here?" The blond Slytherin demanded, once he was within five feet from them.

"Excuse me?" Harry asked, slightly dumbfounded. He couldn't remember ever having done something to Draco that could have made react that way and Malfoy had generally avoided him after the incident with Neville's Remembrall in the first year.

"Are you following me?" Draco persisted, looking at the two surprised teens through narrowed eyes.

"What?" Harry asked again, his brain still not catching up with the situation at hand.

"I said," Malfoy repeated, his voice for once genuinely angry and not at all like the in hissy fits he had with Adrian, "Are. You. Following me?"

"Are you mental?" Neville asked, looking at the Slytherin boy as if he already new the answer to his question was affirmative.

"That's not an answer, Longbottom!" Draco exclaimed, glaring daggers at Neville.

"What did you expect with such a question?" Neville asked again, starting to get angry himself.

"Why would we follow you?" Harry asked, looking at Draco in confusion.

"I don't know! You answer that!" Malfoy persisted. Is everybody having a bad day, Harry thought idly while gathering his wits enough to speak again, before Neville gathered enough steam to punch Malfoy in the face.

"We were not following you." Harry stated, in a would-be-calm voice. "We just happened to fancy a walk to the Shrieking Shack. I imagine you being here means you thought the same thing."

"So you weren't following me." Draco said, taking a step back.

"No!" Neville exclaimed.

"Oh." The blond said, his eyes lowering to look at the ground. An awkward silence fell over the three teens, one which neither of them seemed able to break.

"But why were you up here alone?" Neville spoke, finally, voicing the first thing he could come up with, just so that forsaken silence would seize. "Where's Crabbe and Goyle?" That, apparently, was the wrong thing to say.

"Because I can't go somewhere on my own, right?" Draco asked, his voice getting louder and louder. "I must be flanked by two muscled idiots at all times, because  _that's_  what people like me do!" He looked halfway insane, Harry thought, as he approached Neville, pointing his index finger at him. "Is that what you wanted to say, Longbottom?"

"Are you insane? I just asked why you were here alone, when all your friends are…"

"I don't have any friends!" Draco exploded.

"How is this  _my_  fault?" Neville screamed back.

"Who said anything about  _you_?" Draco spat, his face matching Neville's bright red complexion.

"Why are you even yelling?" Harry screamed, looking at the two teens in complete confusion. "What, is this the day when everybody gets to go crazy?" Both Draco and Neville turned to look at him, jaws slack.

"I… I don't even know." Neville admitted.

"Look, just forget about this, alright?" Draco asked, sighing, his eyes focused once again on the fallen leaves that covered the majority of the ground around the Shrieking Shack. "I'm just having a terrible day." Later on, when Harry would think back at that moment, he would never be able to pin point exactly what it had been that spurred him to stop Draco from leaving. The point was, he did.

"You're not the only one." The green eyed wizard admitted; Malfoy met Harry's eyes with his own grey gaze.

"How are you, of all people, having a terrible day?" Draco asked, appearing honestly bewildered.

"The old fashioned way, I suppose; everything seems to be going down the hill." Harry stated, shrugging casually. Neville kept looking between his brother and the boy that had taunted him during his first year at Hogwarts in shock, his expression clearly stating how baffled he was at the whole situation.

"Come off it, Potter!" Draco exclaimed, his shoulders shagging, his face tired. "What problems could  _you_  have?"

"What problems could  _I_  have?" Harry repeated the question, chuckling humorlessly. "The first task of the tournament is in a few days, my twin has decided he hates my guts and has a high probability to get himself injured if he doesn't come down his high horse, I haven't slept in two days, my head is killing me and I'm pretty sure there are people in the Three Broomsticks right now betting on whether I'm going to get myself killed in four days." Harry ranted, waving his hands around, trying to show exactly what had gone wrong with his day. "But how has your day been?"

"I caught my so called friends commenting on me going off my rocker and laughing their lungs out at how pathetic I am this morning, I received a letter from my father that pretty much dictated how I was to live my life for the remainder of the term -till further notice- I ran into your dear brother who thought it would be nice to pick a fight with me the  _one_   _time_  I opted not to even look his way and then, when I came up here to be alone, I ran into you two." Draco stated, wearing a smile that could indicate that, yes, he might indeed have gone off his rocker. "But look what a lovely weather we're having!" He added out of nowhere, covering his eyes with the palm of his hand.

"I caught only half of that," Harry admitted, "but I still have to face a dragon four days from now so I win." Both Neville and Draco turned to face him the very second the word 'dragon' left his lips.

"Harry!" Neville exclaimed, looking at his brother as if crazy was catching.

"A dragon?" Malfoy asked, grey eyes wide. "A real dragon?"

"Yeah, you know, the ones that breathe flames and have pass times that include but are not limited to eating wizards and stomping on villages." Harry said, trying to act nonchalant. Draco just stared at him.

"I can't believe you just told him that." Neville muttered, looking between his brother and Draco once more, waiting for the blonde's reaction.

"How do you even know you'll be facing a dragon?" Malfoy asked.

"I stumbled into their cages a few weeks back. That was another fun day." Harry offered, actually smiling at the shock etched on Draco's face.

"Oh." Draco offered, seemingly not understanding how the conversation slash shouting match they had just had eventually led to this. "So, yeah, you might win this one."

"That's it?" Neville asked, eyes narrowing. "No threats on telling on him for knowing what the task's about? Nothing?" Draco just shrugged and shook his head negatively.

"Not in the mood right now." He admitted.

"I think you broke him, Harry." Neville offered, chuckling a little.

"Nah!" Harry threw back, his head spinning from the recent events; he had half thought that Draco was going to threaten him, actually. He had just hoped for a normal response from the Slytherin that would put the whole conversation into perspective. "Anyway, he can't threaten me with anything. I know what the task is but so do the other champions. And Dumbledore knows we know, so if anything, he would get in trouble for telling." Harry explained his reasoning to Neville, who smiled and nodded.

" _He_ , is right here, thank you very much!" Draco exclaimed, slightly irritated.

"Yes, we know." Neville stated, looking at the Slytherin as if he was expecting him to confess he was actually Fred Weasley under a ton of glamour charms.

"So," Harry started, deciding that, since the situation couldn't turn any more insane, he could at least get into the bottom of this; he had been meaning to find out what was going on with Draco since last summer after all. "Now that we've come this far, care to explain what exactly happened to you?"

"Funny." Draco commented, kicking a few leaves in agitation. "That's one of the things Blaise asked this morning."

"What?" Neville asked, not following the conversation.

"What's wrong with me." Draco explained. "I had a very interesting conversation with some of my classmates earlier today; well, I say conversation, but it was more like they were talking about me while they thought I had already gone to Hogsmeade."

"Would you like to share with the class?" Neville asked, waiting to wake up any second now; because this had to be a dream, correct?

"No." Draco said, but sighed and continued anyway. "In a nutshell, the conversation was about how I wasn't being myself and how, if it wasn't for my father's influence, they would have probably given up on me ages ago."

"Life in the Slytherin House sounds… awful." Neville commented, tried to come to terms with what he had just heard.

"Not all of the Slytherins are bastards, Longbottom." Draco interjected, protecting his House. "Maybe the ones I hang out with." He added, trying to sound flippant; it didn't quite work as his hands were forming fists so tight, both his arms were shaking.

"I know that for a fact." Harry added, offering a small smile at Draco's general direction.

"How comes?" Draco asked, raising an eyebrow in contemplation.

"I was raised by one Severus Snape, if you recall." Harry offered. "And he's the best man I know." Malfoy seemed taken aback by the bluntness in which Harry spoke about his thoughts on the Head of Slytherin.

"That was a shock." Draco admitted.

"You know what was a real shock?" Harry asked, feeling good to finally getting the chance. "You, protecting the Muggle family during the Death Eaters raid last August." Draco paled even more and that, what with his natural pale complexion, was a feat on its own.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Draco managed to get out after a few seconds of stunned silence.

"Don't try that on me, Malfoy." Harry warned him. "I was right there; do you know how much effort I have put just to not confront you about it since the beginning of term?" Draco turned around, looking back at the Shrieking Shack, not truly knowing what to say. He ran his hands through his hair and sighed.

"They were children, alright?" He finally said, his voice barely reaching Harry and Neville, right when the green eyed teen was ready to ask him again. "I have no idea why I did it. I mean, they were Muggles; I've been taught to hate Muggles, all I have heard about them is how they are inferior to us." He turned around once more to look at Harry and Neville, as if begging them to understand him, or possibly to make him understand what his own actions meant. "But all I could think at that moment was, Merlin, they are children and they're going to die right in front of me. I just reacted and ran. I don't know why I did it." He repeated, his voice almost beseeching.

"You know, Malfoy?" Neville said, no quite believing what he had heard. "When you forget you're supposed to be a jerk, you're not half bad."

"Was that a compliment?" Draco asked, clearly taken aback.

"Well, half a compliment anyway." Neville threw back. And Draco chuckled, the sound shocking him so much, Harry could tell they were not going to get anything more out of him that day.

"Why did you even tell us all that?" He asked, green eyes locking on grey.

"I have no idea." Draco admitted. "It happens a lot lately. I mean, I don't even like you people!" As much as Draco tried -if he had tried at all- that didn't even sound anything close to an insult.

"Certainly; you don't know us well enough to like us." Harry stated.

"Anyway, I'm leaving." Draco exclaimed not knowing what to make of Harry's last statement and did just that, not even looking back. Harry called his name before even realizing what he had done.

"Draco!"

"What?" The blonde asked, irritation clear in his voice, even if he didn't turn around to face Harry.

"Tomorrow before lunch, Nev and I will be at the library; we'll be researching on how to beat a dragon into a pulp," he explained, admittedly exaggerating a little "so we shouldn't bore you completely."

"What are you even saying, Potter?" Draco asked, while Neville looked at him as if the blonde Slytherin had beaten him to the punch on asking the same question.

"You could come over and not like us there, if you want." Draco seemingly stopped breathing for a moment.

"Why the hell not?" He asked nobody in specific, before storming out of the clearing and back towards Hogsmeade.

"You know what, I'm not even going to ask what happened." Neville commented, five minutes later when he had managed to find his voice. "This is beyond the realm of possible things."

"Agreed, brother." Harry stated looking at Neville blankly. The walk back to the school was filled with analysis over analysis of the conversation they had just had. They only came up with more questions and almost no answers, so they kept talking about it during half the day. Harry even narrated the whole story to his father later that day, when the potions master returned from Hogsmeade. All Severus had to offer however was reminding him that not all changes are bad and that he would have to wait and see how things played out.

"From the looks of things," Severus said, contemplating on what he had heard, "Draco's having a bad year in Hogwarts; maybe it all started at the Quidditch Cup. You said he sounded shaken up when he recalled the incident."

"More like confused at his own actions." Harry commented, the image of Malfoy that morning coming back to him. "And yes, maybe shaken up."

"You'd better wait and see what happens today." Severus advised him.

"If Draco even shows up." Harry interjected. Severus had nodded in agreement, acknowledging there was a chance Draco wouldn't show up at all. During the next day, Harry's observation seemed to solidify into certainty; Draco had avoided both him and Neville during potions, practically fleeing from the dungeons after the lesson was over. He didn't even linger at the Slytherin table during dinner. So, it came as a complete surprise when he plopped in the seat next to Harry, half an hour after he and Neville arrived in the library.

"Don't say a word." Draco muttered, pulling out some fresh parchment from his bag and his quill. Neville and Harry weren't much inclined to speak as they were to stare. Finally, Draco sighed and spoke once more. "So, are you going to tell me what you're working on, or are you really expecting me to spend the next few hours sitting here and not liking you?" Harry shook his head and handed Draco a book on the ice spell they had found. Both he and Neville would later refuse admitting they had smiled at his comment.

"This is what I would like to use." Harry whispered, catching a few befuddled sixth year Gryffindors that were observing the whole scene from a few tables over with the corner of his eye. Considering that the same Gryffindors wouldn't have spared him a second glance last year, he decided not to pay attention neither to them nor their reactions. "I'll probably end up using a stinging spell right in the dragon's eyes, but…"

"Where you aiming for ostentatious?" Draco wondered, looking at the two boys in confusion and back to the spell.

"Yeah, basically." Neville confirmed.

"Oh." Draco said looking back at the book. "And what were you planning on achieving with that spell?"

"Freeze the dragon?" He offered, waiting for the Slytherin's reaction. Draco didn't disappoint.

"Are you insane?" He asked eyes widening in realization. "Or rather, do you have a death wish? Even if you managed to somehow, miraculously, freeze the whole dragon, you'd pass out from exhaustion and, when the ice melted, for it  _would_  melt, you'd end up as dragon food!"

" _Shhh_!" Sounded Madam Pince, looking towards them critically. Draco shot her a dirty glare but lowered his voice anyway.

"I know." Harry admitted. "But I'm tempted, okay?"

"So, you were thinking on immobilizing a dragon using ice?" Draco asked.

"Well, yeah." Neville stated. "Magical ice versus magical fire. Makes some sense."

"Not really." Draco said, mostly talking to himself.

"Why not?" Harry asked, looking at the Slytherin in interest. It was quite hard, he realized to think of Draco as the annoying Slytherin prince he knew him as at the very moment. Neither could he however let go of how he had treated Neville in the past that easily. They were at an impasse; anything could happen.

"The fire inside a dragon's heart burns seven times stronger than any magical fire. The ice would melt seven times faster around the chest area and, should the dragon be able to move even a little, it could break the rest of the ice quite swiftly." Harry and Neville just stared at him blankly for a few moments. "The moment I realized 'Draco' was latin for 'dragon', I went crazy and read anything on dragons I could get my hands on." The Slytherin explained, rolling his eyes.

"I see." Harry stated, nodding once.

"And how where you thinking on keeping the dragon still long enough to cast the spell?" Draco asked.

"Temporary binds." Harry explained. "Practically use anything there was in my surroundings to make it keep still for as long as necessary."

"Huh." Draco kept reading through the notes.

"Problem is," Neville picked up the conversation, "we don't know what his surrounding will be."

"Where were those cages you saw?" Draco asked.

"In the forest." Harry explained. "The only way I see the task held there is if the judges are suicidal."

"And if they are sadistic," Draco added after some contemplation, "they will have you fight the dragon on rocky terrain; that's were dragons have the best advantage, you see."

"I wouldn't call them sadistic," Harry whispered, "but the point is to make it as difficult as possible on us."

"So, a rocky terrain?" Neville asked.

"Well, rocks can't get burned." Draco offered.

"That's a plus." Harry agreed. They spent a few moments in contemplation until Draco spoke.

"You know, this reminds me of a tale my grandmother told me." Both Harry and Neville looked at him in confusion once more.

"How so?" Asked Harry.

"Well… I'd better tell the tale." Draco mumbled, rubbing his neck, his cheeks blushing red; he had probably said that out loud without meaning to, Harry realized.

"Sure." Neville stated, noting Draco's discomfort.

"Once upon a time, there was a King with two sons. When the time came and the old King could sense his days on this world were ending, he called his sons to him and said; you will take two horses from the stables and race from here to the northern borders. He whose chosen horse finishes last will take the throne." Draco narrated.

"How's that relevant?"

"Shut up and listen, Longbottom!" Draco snapped, glaring at Neville.

"Fine," The brown eyed teen said, "but I hope there's a point in there somewhere."

"The two princes did as ordered," Draco continued, disregarding Neville's interjection, "and started their race, riding as slowly as possible. A few days later, they passed an old man, who, unable to help his curiosity, asked them why they rode thus. The princes explained their predicament, making the old man laugh and point out the obvious; my princes, said he, should each ride your brother's horse, your problem shall be solved!"

"So," Harry began, "what you mean to say is that we're looking at this the wrong way?" Draco nodded.

"Couldn't you say that in the first place?" Neville asked, making the Slytherin blush.

"I meant to do that but then the story was relevant!" Neville rolled his eyes, as Harry motioned them to lower their voices lest they were thrown out the library.

"What did you want to say?" He asked Draco.

"It just made more sense to me to use your terrain to bind the dragon for good and ice to temporarily immobilize him; don't ask me how; it was just an idea." But Harry wasn't listening. He allowed himself a few moments of mentally cringing at his stupidity, before digging through the piles of books around him, finally pulling an old tome from the base of the third pile to his right; Neville had to practically jump to catch the falling books as Harry opened the tome in his hand.

"I'm an imbecile." He muttered, flipping through the pages. "It was here the whole time. You even pointed it out, Nev!"

"I did?" Neville asked bewildered.

"Pointed out what?" Draco asked, looking at Neville from further explanation. The Gryffindor shrugged, just as much in loss as the Malfoy heir.

"Look!" Harry said finally, opening the book on the right page and pointing it out to the two teens. It wasn't long before realization creeped on their faces.

"That's definitely ostentatious." Draco muttered numbly.

"And insane, don't forget insane." Neville added, as Draco nodded, wondering what in the world had he gotten himself into.

"And, since it doesn't require freezing anything, as it doesn't require physically creating something out of thin air, it's not as taxing as the ice spell." Harry whispered heatedly. "Don't you see?" Neville nodded, knowing that Harry was going to go with it; he was crazy enough to pull it off.

"But how are you planning on practicing on the spell?" Draco asked, not quite believing what he was even asking; the plan was crazy and Harry was too, from what he could see.

"It won't leave traces behind, so the grounds behind the castle would be ideal; away from Hagrid's hut of course and the cages." Harry muttered, forming a plan in his head. "And I can't do it in broad daylight of course no." Neville swiftly caught on and nodded. He seemed skeptical for a few moments, before nodding once to himself and turning towards Draco, who still looked at Harry confused.

"Say, Malfoy," he said, "how much adverse are you to being out of school after curfew?"

"I'm the Slytherin here, Longbottom! I should be the one asking you that!" Draco answered, trying to sound vaguely insulted. He was smiling slightly however, so Neville hypothesized he didn't mind. They had snuck out after curfew every night on the next few days, under Harry's invisibility cloak -Draco seemed just as excited about the cloak and the whole process of sneaking out as about being included even if he did his damnest to hide it- till Harry was certain he had mastered the spell needed. The only night they didn't sneak out was the one right before the actual task.

Harry wouldn't have gotten any sleep if it hadn't been for a mild calming draught Severus offered him. The green eyed teen had almost refused to drink it -scared witless of oversleeping and failing to appear at the task- until the potions master assured him he had been taking the same potion the whole week to calm his nerves and he had managed to wake up just fine. He had also seemed quite interested in the progress Harry was making with one Draco Malfoy -even if they hadn't spoken about anything other than the task since Sunday, the blonde already seemed less inclined to sneer or mock everything that moved while in his or Neville's presence- but had admitted it would be impossible to concentrate on that before the task was over and done with.

The morning of the twenty fourth of November dawned sunny and cold. The champions had been asked to gather at the castle's entrance straight after lunch and as such, Harry and Adrian had joined Fleur and Krum exactly at two o'clock at the front gates. Neville had nodded encouragingly, letting him know that he would be screaming as loud as possible for him. Even Draco had nodded once, as Harry passed him by, smiling softly before remembering where he was. They exited the Hall amidst loud applause and where led towards the front gate by the three Headmasters and Severus, who had refused leaving his son's side until after the task.

"You'll do great, Harry." He whispered to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I know you will." Harry nodded once, and followed the rest of the champions towards the grounds. Even from where he stood he could tell changes had been made; there was a grand arena built there, one that seemed to have appeared overnight, as it actually had. And it wasn't empty; rocks were protruding where nothing but air should be and the loud roars in the distance spoke of what they were soon to face; Fleur turned to look at him, her face worried and he smiled at her in what he hoped was a reassuring smile. She smiled back, so she took that as a good omen.

Ludo Bagman was expecting the champions in front of a tent that had been set up, just at the entrance of the arena, smiling brighter than what Harry considered legal in such a situation. He was wearing his old Quidditch team's robes again, Harry noted, as he ushered everybody inside.

"Well, now we're all here, time to fill you in!" said Bagman brightly. "When the audience has assembled, I'm going to be offering each of you this bag," he held up a small sack of purple silk and shook it at them ,"from which you will each select a small model of the thing you are about to face! There are different –er- varieties, you see." Get over with it, Harry seethed, as Bagman continued his cheery commentary. "And I have to tell you something else too… ah, yes... your task is to  _collect the golden egg_!" Harry looked around him in confusion. Nobody seemed to know anything about an egg, so he simply nodded as did the rest of the champions. Severus placed his hand on his shoulder again and immediately he stood straighter; he was not alone in this. It seemed like no time had passed at all when Harry heard it; the sound of hundreds upon hundreds of feet, passing by the tent and heading for the arena. Severus and the three Headmasters' were asked to leave the tent. The potions master only did so after hugging his son tight, not really caring who saw. Harry, who cared just as much, returned the hug before he let go, a soft smile on his face. Adrian was glaring at him from his corner but Harry didn't care for that either; his twin's attitude had only gotten worse after he had seen him and Neville talking with Draco at the library. Having however reached a sad point where a supposed enemy was treating him better than his own twin, Harry hadn't even bothered to comment on Adrian's behaviour.

Lily and James had finally approached him last night too, asking him about what Adrian had shared with him from what they had advised him to do. He had felt bad for them in that moment as he explained that Adrian and he hadn't truly spoken in over three weeks. He hastened to assure him that Sirius and Remus had helped him strategise, just so that they would stop fussing. As always, it was too little, too late; that appeared to be the leitmotif of their whole relationship nowadays.

Finally, Bagman approached them, bringing with him the velvet pouch he had shown them before. Fleur went first placing her hand in the pouch and picking what Harry could distinguish as miniature replica of a Common Welsh Green with the number two around his neck. Next was Krum, who was the oldest of the three champions remaining; his dragon was a Scarlet Chinese Fireball, with the number three around its neck. Harry sighed in relief; the Fireball was a dragon that could produce a very hot fire and not facing it would help with his plan.

Adrian was next; his dragon was a Swedish Short-Snout with the number one around its neck. The hazel eyed wizard paled as he saw the number while Harry thought he would give everything to trade places with him. His own dragon was a Hungarian Horntail with the number four around its neck. It was a medium sized dragon, from what Harry remembered. That would work fine with what he wanted to do. Then there was the fact that he had possibly picked the most dangerous of the four dragons, but he tried to ignore that little detail. The silence was complete in the tent after Bagman left. Harry repeated what he had to do over and over in his mind even though he was certain the spells were engraved there forever. And then, Adrian's name was called. The teen gulped audibly and moved towards the exit, straightening the red robes he and Harry had been given.

"Adrian!" Harry called, just as his twin was about to step out; Adrian stopped but didn't turn around. "Take care out there. Good luck." Without any showing any indication he had heard him other than a curt nod, Adrian exited the tent. After the first round of applause, Harry thought that he would give all the money he had in his vault for the chance to see how Adrian was doing. He could hear Bagman's commentary, but that only made things worse. And when a collective scream was heard, he almost ran out towards the arena himself. Even if he had managed to get past the wards he could feel placed around the arena, he had no idea what he would face. After what seemed like forever, a thunderous round of applause was heard and Harry could breathe again.

He barely noticed Fleur and Krum leave from the tent, even if he was certain he at least nodded at them as they went. He stood up and paced the tent, waiting for his name to be called. The tournament had never felt more real that it did this very moment. Finally his name was called and Harry stepped out from the ten and into the arena.

In the meantime, Neville was seated at the arena, waiting for his brother to appear. The Fates were rather cruel, it seemed, as Harry was set to appear fourth. He dearly hoped Severus would survive the wait; he had seemed ready to pass out when he had seen him last. He was seated next to the Weasleys and specifically Ginny and her Ravenclaw friend Luna Lovegood. The girl was rather quirky, he had known that, yet, he had to admit, she had the most beautiful blue eyes he had ever seen. Shaking his head to clear it from such thoughts, clearly panic induced, he almost didn't notice Draco seating next to him until Ron commented on it.

"What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Ron spat, causing Neville to turn his attention to the teen next to him.

"Watching the task, Weasley. Now shut up, if you can manage it." And he pointedly ignored Ron's rather violent reactions, his eyes frozen to the still empty arena. He hadn't acknowledged Neville either, but the boy couldn't help smiling as he too turned his attention to Ludo Bagman, who was explaining what was about to happen.

Adrian had been called first; he had gone for the eyes immediately, his fifth curse impacting with the dragon. The beast had panicked and stomped around blindly, its tail grazing Adrian's legs and knocking him off balance. Still, Adrian had stood up and managed to grab the golden egg that seemed to be the trophy for the day in the end. Everybody in around Neville applauded with the notable exception of Ginny; the poor girl must be terrified, Neville thought. For Ginny had clasped both palms over her mouth and refused to let go, no matter what was happening around her. Maybe she's fighting the urge to scream, Neville imagined.

Fleur was next; she had put her dragon to sleep and had only received a minor injury out of bad luck than anything else. Krum had gone for the eyes too, but had been unlucky himself. The dragon had stomped on some of the eggs and that apparently made him lost some points. And then, it was Harry's turn. A ferocious black dragon entered the arena, its spikes larger than the ones on the dragons before.

"A Hungarian Horntail." Draco murmured next to him, his face almost completely white. Ruddy hell, Neville added mentally, feeling all blood draining from his face too.

Back in the arena, Harry walked out to face his designated dragon. He took the first few steps, looking around the terrain carefully; he couldn't have asked for something better. And then, the dragon came to view. It was large and terrifying and absolutely enraged. That of course meant, it had trailed its large yellow eyes on his, the very moment he had entered the arena its intent clear. Harry smiled and raised his wand; now or never, he thought.

" _Glacies Trabem!_ " He ordered, and pointed his wand straight towards the dragon's snout. A brilliant ray of clear ice flew from his wand, hitting the dragon straight on the tip of its snout, causing it to pause in shock as its jaws stuck together by enchanted ice. It tried to pull it head backwards, but the spell held on until Harry deemed otherwise. Once he lifted his wand, the complete front part of the dragon's black head was encased in a thick, sparkling layer of ice. Harry knew it would be only a matter of seconds before the dragon snapped out of its shock and tried to get rid of the ice. He pointed his wand towards the rocks on the left of the dragon, on the other side from a large nest filled with eggs, amongst which he could clearly see the golden egg he was aiming for.

" _Iactatuts Verse!_ " And all hell broke loose. The bright orange orb of light than left his wand and hit the ground next to the dragon, seemed to have had no effect at all. Until Harry moved his wand. This was a spell that had been developed for digging tunnels; it was inevitable that you'd eventually hit rocks and, miles beneath the surface, one didn't always have the luxury to move said boulders out of the way. So, the Gringgots' goblins had come up with this spell; it was usually cast by three wizards or more, but the amount of rock Harry wanted to manipulate was something he knew he could manage alone.

The moment Harry moved his wand was the moment the spell really took effect. Harry could feel the magic flowing through him as the rocks around the dragon melted and liquefied to hot magma with a loud roar; he would fight fire with fire. The magma wouldn't hurt the dragon, of course; dragons were known do nest in volcanoes. But solid rock would be enough to keep it still. So he moved his wand around swiftly, guiding the magma around the dragon, melting more and more rock, till the giant reptile was surrounded by a flying river of lava. Harry made both hands into fists and pulled outwards, causing the magma to stick on the dragon before he released his hold on the spell.

" _Cataracta!_ " he called finally, a great wave of water leaving his wand and falling on the dragon. By the time the smoke cleared from the arena, Harry had climbed on the nest. The sight that greeted the spectators as the steam subsided, was a live dragon statue and one Harry Potter, holding the golden egg up in victory.

 


	56. Aftershocks

Severus Snape couldn't take his eyes of the arena in front of him; his breathing was erratic. His heart was fluttering and his head was swimming. His fourteen year old son had just turned a fifty feet tall, spike-tailed, fire-breathing Hungarian Horntail into a statue.

It had been the most terrifying moment in his entire life. And the potions master had witnessed some of the most gruesome and horrifying moments of recent history, not to mention having survived more torture sessions than he could recall, kindly bestowed upon him by none other than Lord Voldemort. Still, having to stay put while watching your son battling a dragon? He'd rather take a well aimed cruciatus curse any day. And then, there was the how his son had opted to face said dragon.

Harry had told him he had a plan, of course. He had said he would try something first but had withheld any further information as to what his plan exactly was -the green eyed wizard had somehow managed to get as stubborn as he was over the years- only stating that, should it not work, he had practiced more stinging curses than he even knew existed. Should it come to that, the dragon would receive one of them right on the eyes in a second.

The potion master had argued, of course, that Harry should better not waste a single second when standing against a dragon; the beast could easily breathe fire faster than Harry could blink and was definitely not a creature to be trifled with. Harry had calmly explained that he had been practising night and day, perfecting whatever spells were needed for his oh-so-secret plan. The stinging curses where only a backup plan any sane person should have when going against a dragon. Harry had said he had faith in his magical abilities. And even if he hadn't worded his plea, the potions master could see it in his son's green eyes clear as day; Harry was asking him to trust in his ability to win too. Silly, in all truth, as Severus had never doubted that; he just wanted Harry in and out of that arena as fast as possible.

Looking back, he realized he should have asked for at least a rough description of what Harry had prepared for the task, especially after finding out he had formulated his plan under the guidance of Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy. Looking at the sight in front of him, he could only reach one conclusion; all three teens were either crazy or geniuses.

The fight itself had been a wonder to behold; all three champions had shown bravery before Harry entered the arena, of course. But the moment his son walked in and looked at the dragon, Severus knew they were all in for shock. Maybe it was the way Harry had stood, looking straight into the yellow eyes of a furious dragon. Maybe it was the fact that he had actually smirked before raising his wand. Whatever instinct it had been that had convinced the potions master whatever he had though Harry capable of coming up with a startling way to defeat a dragon, it hadn't failed him.

The moment the first spell hit the dragon, covering its jaws in magical ice, he had felt surprise grip him; a dragon's jaws were dangerous, what with the teeth and -Merlin!- the  _fire_ , but not what one would aim for when trying to incapacitate a dragon. By the time Harry had cast the second spell, Severus had given up on trying to rationally analyse the fight -a coping mechanism he had developed years ago, when he was still spying for the Order- and had simply resigned himself in watching it unfold, slack-jawed and possibly seconds away from a heart attack.

The noise of the melting rocks was deafening and the sight of magma flowing rapidly from the ground and upwards more stunning than anything he had expected to see. Soon the dragon was surrounded by molten binds, their blaze and heat reaching even him, as if the protective wards placed around the audience had flickered out of existence.

"Merlin!" He heard Lily gasp, a few seats next to him. He couldn't turn his head from the sight in front of him to face her; she would have to fare on her own. And, just as he was thinking along these lines, the lava that revolved around the dragon surged forward and covered the beast whole, before Harry's third and last spell was cast. Magma sizzled and solidified under a sudden collision with the water Harry had charmed into existence as thick mist surrounded the arena. The silence was complete up until the moment a slight wind stirred the fog and moved it out of the way, leaving the image of a dragon-turned-stone and of Harry clutching the golden egg in victory shine through.

The resulting applause was a hundred times more thunderous than the dragon's roar. People yelled and clapped, some pointing at the dragon in awe -the beast's eyes that had not been covered with lava were still moving frantically from left to right- others too shocked to do more than cheer.

Lily Potter was only mildly aware of the enthusiastic crowd around her. She only turned to look at her husband -James had gone completely slack jawed and stood just as still as the dragon currently was, his eyes wide behind his glasses- and then let her glance flicker over the equally confused Headmaster before turning her full attention back to her youngest son. She had been dreading of this day for weeks. The very moment Albus informed her the first task included living dragons, panic had settled its roots inside her heart; someone was trying to get Adrian killed, her mind insisted. Her oldest child was in danger once more. The fact that Harry would be in the exact same position had escaped her notice that day; Adrian was being stubborn and refusing her and James' help, putting himself in even greater danger, if that was possible.

It had only hit her -and had done so viciously- when Sirius had asked her whether she had found out what Harry had planned for the task; the dog animagus had figured she and James had approached Harry too while at Hogwarts. He had probably expected Harry had been less stubborn in accepting his parents' help and that that had been the reason he was not mentioned during their talks over the past week. She still remembered the cold glare Sirius -the always cheerful and friendly Sirius- had shot her once she admitted she hadn't even asked. The man had stormed out of the room and had flooed away in seconds, not uttering one more word nether towards her nor James, in search of Remus who was still at work.

She had turned to James there, tears in her eyes, unable to believe how she had once again failed to tend to the needs of her youngest child. Of Harry, who had not received any training in his life and yet had volunteered for the tournament. Harry, who had led a whole life of his own while she wasn't looking. And now she had done it again. James had of course tried to soothe her, stating that it was only natural to fear for Adrian as they did, knowing just who was after him. She hadn't been able to tell if it was his guilty conscience or hers he had been trying to appease.

She had shied away from Harry for one more week after that, not knowing how she could look him in the eyes, before she finally gathered the courage to visit him at school and ask of his plan. The panic she had felt once he had told her Adrian hadn't shared a single of the advices he had been given with his brother was something she had never experienced before; when had her sons drifted so far away from one another? She had been slightly put at ease when finding out Sirius and Remus had come to Harry's rescue; stinging hexes were a good plan against a dragon and the same method Adrian would use. It would work. It had to.

"Stinging curses, my arse!" Sirius exclaimed from next to her, clapping as hard as he could. He had a huge smile plastered on his face, his eyes shining with pride. Remus next to him wore a similar expression as he cheered, even if he looked as pale as he used to be after a particularly vicious full moon in the past. And then, there was Severus; her old friend was seated only a few seats away from her. At the present, he had jumped up from his seat, alongside the rest of the crowd, clapping furiously and laughing. And crying. Severus was crying as his whole body beamed with pride and he didn't seem to give a knut on who was there to watch his reaction.

"What the hell!" James exclaimed from her right, finally catching up and joining the crowd in their cheering, albeit somehow numbly. Everything around her seemed numb, she realised, surreal and of a dream-like quality, as she too started to applaud, cheering for the victory of the stranger that her son had become.

In the meantime, Harry had climbed down the nest, a skip in his step and the egg safe in his arms. His ears were hurting with all the noise around him, the sound coming from the crown seemingly amplified now that the threat that was the dragon had been dealt with. Speaking of the dragon, the green eyed wizard thought, he looked at the petrified reptile, smirking as he passed it by. Feeling playful, his head still abuzz with adrenaline, he bowed towards the beast, earning himself an even louder round of cheering. He chuckled once and headed towards the tent as he had been instructed to do before the task, passing a stunned Charlie and his group as he went. He shrugged half apologetically at the redhead as their eyes locked and walked out of the arena, waving one last time towards the audience.

He almost ran into Madam Pomfrey and professor McGonagall, only barely catching himself before the collision. The two women were standing at the entrance of the corridor that led to the tent, hid in the shadows cast by the arena. Harry looked at them and smiled in what he hoped to be a kind smile, even if he knew everything was bound to come out as a half-crazed grin at that point.

"Hello, professor McGonagall, Madam Pomfrey!" He said, waiting for a response. The nurse was openly staring at him while the Transfiguration teacher was looking from him towards the dragon statue in rapid succession. Neither seemed ready to form a coherent sentence. "Okay then!" Harry offered, shrugging once more. He couldn't find it in him to mind their silence; he was feeling positively giddy at the moment.

"What iz taking so long?" Fleur's voice echoed in the corridor, before the girl herself appeared around the corner. "Is 'Arry hurt?" She asked, walking towards him. She didn't seem injured, only slightly smoked and with a torn robe, but otherwise fine. Harry smiled widely at her.

"I'm perfectly well, thank you!" Harry exclaimed, his eyes sparkling with mirth. He knew he was to be called into the arena for his score announcement at any moment; idly he remembered that the score for the rest of the champions had been announced much sooner and then chuckled realising what the problem was. It was obvious that the dragon had to be removed before he would return a champion returned in the arena. The Horntail he had left behind would have a bit of trouble doing so if someone didn't break it free first.

"'Arry!" Fleur exclaimed, flinging herself at him, her arms wrapping around him. "I'm so glad you're okay!"

"And so am I!" The green eyed wizard assured her, hugging her back. "You weren't injured, right?" He asked then, taking a step back and looking at her carefully, hoping he hadn't missed any wound she could have aggravated by walking over to check on him.

"Of course not!" She exclaimed, smiling at his obvious concern. Harry's expression turned dubious as he spotted a bandage tightly wrapped around her left arm, previously hidden by her torn sleeve. "Just a scratch." She assured him, noticing where his eyes had focused on. As Harry realized whatever the nature of her wound was, it wasn't even serious enough to bleed at that point, he relaxed and smiled once again.

"What's happening?" Adrian's voice sounded in the corridor. The older twin walked towards the small group by the entrance of the arena, the right side of his head a bit bruised and slightly limping. Still, if he was feeling good enough to walk out and enquire on what was happening his injuries couldn't have been severe. Krum had followed him in silence, a bandage wrapped around his head.

"Adrian!" Harry called walking towards his twin and hugging him close; no matter what had gone on between them in the past month, both of them had just faced a dragon and came out victorious. And that, in Harry's books, was enough to allow water to slide under the bridge. They were both alive -if slightly battered, in Adrian's case; it was a moment for celebration, not stubbornness and ire. To his pleasant surprise, his twin returned the hug.

"Vat is delaying the announcement?" Krum asked, nodding once at Harry before getting straight to the point.

"My fault, really." Harry admitted. "I may or may not have made it a tad hard to move the dragon."

"How?" Adrian asked, stepping away from his brother; his eyes widened as he said; "You didn't stun it, right?"

"Well…" Harry began, but it was professor McGonagall that gave the answer.

"Stun it?" She asked, her voice shrill. " _Stun_  it? He turned it into stone!" The three other champions froze in their tracks at the Transfiguration teacher's exclamation.

"He vat?" Krum asked, moving closer towards the entrance of the arena and peeking out. It took him a second to get used to the sunlight but, once he did, he took a few startled steps backwards, his eyes trailing towards Harry in utter shock. "Невъзможно е!" He exclaimed. "Impossible!"

"If we wanted to be completely accurate," Harry stated calmly, a sly smirk on his lips, as Fleur and Adrian went to look at the dragon too "I more encased the dragon in stone rather than turned him into it. Much simpler a concept, though not as impressive as a full transformation would have been." He had thrown the last part in for McGonagall's favour, but the professor seemed no less shocked than she had been before.

"'Arry!" Fleur exclaimed, her face ashen as she looked back at him. "'ow did you do that?"

"I used my surroundings." Harry explained. "Lava may have been involved." He added as an afterthought, earning a group of startled stares. Any more questions they might have had for him were promptly cut short by a loud crackling noise and then a deafening roar. Harry glanced towards the arena; it seemed that Dumbledore had intervened, breaking the stone around the dragon without injuring the beast. Charlie and his team had taken on then, stunning the dragon enough to get it in chains and lead it out the arena. Ludo Bagman called his name, his voice sounding strained. Harry smiled and walked out to the arena once more, this time much more at peace with himself, knowing that there would be no dragon to meet him this time. The sheer force of the applause almost pushed him backwards. His smile widened as he waved to the crowd that was now chanting his name. He turned his attention towards the judges; he was too far away even for his eyes to observe the expression of the four judges, but he could bet all his gold in Gringotts that their faces held emotions varying from shock to disbelief and every known combination of the two.

"Harry!" A voice he would recognise anywhere sounded behind him; Neville had come to congratulate him up close. The brown eyed Gryffindor looked out of breath, probably having ran all the way from his seat to there in the past few minutes, but was grinning widely as he gave him thumbs up from the entrance of the stadium; Harry smiled in return, overjoyed that his brother was by his side at such a moment. The cheering stopped and Harry realized it was time for his score to be announced.

First went Madame Maxime; she raised her wand in the air, pausing for one second to look at the ramble where the dragon stood a few minutes ago. She shook her head as if to clear it and moved her wand; what looked like a long silver ribbon twisted out of it, forming the number ten. Applause erupted once more as Harry smiled; ten was great, he supposed, if Neville's jumping up and down in joy was anything to go by. Next was Mr. Crouch who deemed Harry's efforts merited another ten. Neville whistled and the crowd went wild as Dumbledore awarded Harry full points too. Ludo Bagman followed the example of the four judges before him.

Finally, Karkaroff raised his wand; he deliberated more than all the judges before him as his eyes took in the practically destroyed arena. Harry could almost hear the man's thoughts in his mind; if he gave Harry full points, he would make it that more difficult for Krum to catch up. If, however, he didn't, he would have nothing to back his decision on. He would probably get lynched, if the way the student body was acting before was any indication. And Severus would probably kill him in his sleep. Harry wanted to think that, maybe, he had managed to strike a bit of fear in Durmstrang's Headmaster himself. In the end, the number that glistened silver under the sun was a ten too.

Applause broke once more and Harry soon found himself patted in the back quite enthusiastically by his brother. Neville was smiling like a loon and didn't seem to mind one bit. Harry threw a hand around his shoulders as they walked back towards the tent side by side, ignoring the startled looks around them.

"You're in the lead!" Neville gushed, chuckling at professor McGonagall's expression.

"I'd better be!" Harry exclaimed, sending both of them into laughter. That seemed to have shaken the Transfiguration teacher out of her shock enough for her to speak once more;

"If the champions would return to the tent." She croaked and cleared her throat before continuing, still not having mastered to expel the traces of confusion from her face. "Mr. Bagman has an announcement to make." And she walked away heading for the tent, her robes flowing behind her as the champions did as instructed.

"That was amazing, 'Arry!" Fleur exclaimed, walking next to Harry.

"Thank you, Fleur!" He offered, smiling at her. "I bet you were amazing too."

"Not like that!" She deadpanned as they walked into the tent. Harry shrugged and turned his attention towards the other side of the tent, waiting for Bagman. He didn't have to wait for long.

"Well done all of you!" The round faced man exclaimed as he walked into the tent. His eyes fell on Harry and stayed there for much longer than necessary. McGonagall had to clear her throat to get him going again. "Ah, yes, sorry…" He mumbled before continuing. "You've got a nice long break before the second task, which will take place at half past nine on the morning of February the twenty-fourth, but we're giving you something to think about in the meantime! If you look down at those golden eggs you're all holding, you will see that they open . . . see the hinges there? You need to solve the clue inside the egg, because it will tell you what the second task is, and enable you to prepare for it! All clear? Sure? Well, off you go, then!"

And the champions went to do just that. Neville had just started narrating what the rest of the champions had done to face their dragons when Severus walked into the tent. He didn't speak or even gave any indication that he had realized somebody else was in the tent other than Harry; he simply walked towards his son with large strides and held him close, almost lifting him from the ground.

"I can't believe you did that!" He exclaimed, taking a step back to look at the teen, appraising him for any sort of injury. "I'm ridiculously proud of you, of course; you're now officially one of the three people that have ever received full marks on a task! Still, I can't believe you did that!" And he hugged him again.

"Thanks, Sev!" Harry spoke as clearly as he could with his face buried in his father's shoulder.

"Don't mention it!" Severus exclaimed loudly, only letting Harry go when somebody cleared their throat behind them. Harry had expected it had been professor McGonagall only to be surprised when he turned around to see Dumbledore, his stunned family trailing behind the Headmaster.

"Congratulations on every one of you!" Albus said, looking at all four champions. "I shall not keep you; your friends are expecting you." He continued, clearly referring to the two champions from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang. Krum nodded once and left, nodding at Harry and offering the younger boy a small smile as he went. Fleur went to do the same before thinking better of it. She turned around and looked from Harry to -surprisingly- Lily, as if she was deliberating on something. Then she smiled slyly and shrugged as she walked towards Harry, grabbed his shoulders and kissed him, quite firmly, on the lips. Harry started reciprocating before his brain managed to remind him of their audience. When he came to his senses, he broke the kiss and looked at Fleur somewhat stunned.

"That's the second time you've done that in the past month." He said, his mind still a bit jumbled. Neville snickered at him, waiting for his brother's mortification when his mind managed to catch up with his tongue.

"You know what you should do for that, 'Arry?" Fleur said, waling towards the exit.

"What?" Harry asked back.

"Next time, you should kiss me!" And she smiled saucily, leaving the tent.

"Dully noted." Harry muttered, his eyes still focused on the spot where Fleur had left from until Neville chuckled.

"You should listen to the girl, Harry." His brother said. "She makes a fine point."

"Oh, shut it, Longbottom!" Harry exclaimed playfully, a smile adorning his face.

"I really didn't need to see that." Severus muttered, making Harry's smile evolve into laughter.

"Harry James Potter!" Lily's voice sounded from behind a softly smiling Dumbledore. Harry cringed; he had almost forgotten who was with him in the tent.

"Yes?" He asked, trying to look completely innocent, as if he hadn't just kissed a girl in front of his Headmaster and family.

"That girl is older than you! Not to mention a veela!" Lily persisted, making Harry roll his eyes.

"That's almost what she said too you know, when we met last summer. That it was impossible I was three years younger than her; I have since made perfectly clear about how much I don't care about that." Harry explained before smirking. "And I have noticed she's a veela, thank you very much!"

"I don't even know what to say on that." Sirius offered, looking at his godson somewhat disgruntled; would Harry ever stop surprising him. Lily simply looked speechless.

"Well, if you don't mind me changing the subject…" Dumbledore started.

"Please do." Severus said, not wanting to continue conversing on Harry and Fleur and kissing, his mind not yet having made a steady connection between the tiny two year old Harry had been when they first met and the young man his son had become as far as romantic relationships were concerned. If you asked him, Harry was free to do whatever he pleased on that subject -as long as he behaved responsibly towards himself and whomever he chose to start a relationship with that was- just, please, don't make him watch!

"I would like to address what happened out there, in the arena." The Headmaster carried on, his voice completely serious. "That was a very impressive feat of magic, Harry." Albus said, his eyes intent on the younger Potter twin. Harry smiled widely.

"Thank you, professor." He simply stated, not bothering to elaborate; if they wanted answers, they should have to ask and then he would consider giving them one.

"What Albus meant. Harry," James said, looking at his youngest son as if he didn't quite know how to handle him, "is that we didn't expect something like that of you." Harry kept his smile bright, even as he fought against clenching his fists. Of course they didn't expect something like that form him; had Adrian done what he had, they wouldn't have even questioned him. Because some shady mystical power Adrian was thought to possess was a panacea, an explanation to everything. Eight years of hard work though? Nope, why would that even matter?

"I can't see why that would be." Harry stated. The adrenaline was slowly leaving his body and he was starting to feel tired; he didn't need this at the moment. "I have studied night and day for this task for the past month. The spells I used are widely known; it's not my fault that nobody thought to use them."

"But these are advanced spells, Harry!" James exclaimed as Lily nodded, her worried eyes focused on Harry for once, as if she was preparing herself to catch him should he faint from exhaustion. "A fourteen year old should not have been able to cast them."

"Well,  _this_  fourteen year old has been selected as a champion for a reason." Harry reminded them for what felt like the hundredth time. "And I'm also first in my year, if you so recall, and have been first since my first year in Hogwarts. An excavation spell is hardly something I can't manage; I have been practising it for many nights; I don't see why you get to be so shocked." The silence around him was complete if one excepted the sound of the students leaving the arena. Severus placed his hand on Harry's back in support while Neville took a step closer to his brother. Having the two of them there, made Harry stand a little straighter and smile at the people in front of him.

"Congratulations, kid!" Sirius offered out of the blue, making Harry jump slightly at the sudden breaking of the silence around. "You were amazing back there!"

"And you got full points too! That's rare!" Remus added, smiling towards the boy too.

"Yes, congratulations, Harry." The Headmaster agreed. "But tell me, how did you come up with such a plan?" Harry smiled and thought about it a little before speaking.

"My original plan was stinging spells." Harry stated, looking towards Sirius and Remus who nodded in agreement. "Having however studied any and every relevant stinging spell, I found myself with free time in my hands and wanting to learn more on dragons. And one day, Draco said…"

"Draco?" Adrian spat, locking eyes with his twin. "Draco Malfoy?"

"You hang out with a Malfoy, Harry?" James asked, his voice angrier than before; Harry rolled hi eyes once again; as if that was some criminal offence!

"Neville and I were researching and found ourselves in need of assistance; Draco took time of his day and helped; as I said, I could use the advice." That was a bit harsh, perhaps, Harry thought, but it was the truth; his parents hadn't helped. Neither had his twin, for that matter. Draco however had and, no matter how much of a jerk he could sometimes be, he had been there when he had needed him. And maybe he's not that much of a jerk, deep down, Harry thought, smiling inwardly as he recalled a certain blonde Slytherin jumping up and down in joy the first time Harry had managed to melt a pile of rocks into a boiling pool of lava.

"Malfoy  _did_  help." Neville backed Harry up. "He was quite nice about it too." And he shared a smile with his brother as Severus smirked. Harry, feeling more and more tired as the spoke -he had barely managed to sleep even with the calming draught- yawned deeply.

"I think we should rather take this to the castle. Severus offered. "Harry is tired," here the green eyed wizard nodded emphatically, "and both he and Adrian just faced a dragon. They should rest before anything else is discussed." Harry applauded inwardly. And as he looked at his father's face, he knew there was a bit more to Severus' proposal. The moment the potions master had as much as mentioned the word 'dragon' he had blanched considerably. Somewhere in the castle, Harry knew, there was calming draught with his father's name on it.

 


	57. The Riddle Of The Golden Egg

James Potter was pacing the hallway outside Albus Dumbledore's office. The Headmaster had just stepped in after asking them -James, Lily, Sirius and Remus being the 'them' in question- to wait till he contacted the Ministry, working out the final detail for the dragons' transportation back to Romania. The dragons; he didn't even want to think about them. If he never saw a dragon in his life, he would call himself content.

He had been just as shocked as everybody else when he had found out about his sons contesting in the tournament. They were both too young for even thinking to compete, let alone being chosen as champions. Even if Harry could technically place his name in the Goblet legally, the chances of him being Hogwarts' champion were slim to none, that's what he had told himself. No, he had had no worries prior to last Halloween, at least none related to dragons attacking his sons.

Then, Dumbledore had called to inform them on how naïve he had been; he could still remember Lily's eyes as the Headmaster explained what had happened. She had been on the verge of panicking and he hadn't fared better. The next month had been, as predicted, a torture. Adrian had been adamant on working on his own; he had refused their help till the very last moment -he had however heeded Sirius' and Remus' prodding to research stinging curses in the end, so that was something, he supposed. But before that, while he was still trying to convince Adrian to listen and find some respite to focus on berating the hell out of some Ministry officials for the best possible protection the country could offer to the champions, his happy-go-lucky friend had crash-landed him back into reality.

"And what about Harry?" Sirius had asked, a tired look in his eyes; he had volunteered to take on James' responsibilities as head of the Aurors for as long as it was necessary for his friend to look after his boys and had just collapsed on the couch in Potter Manor after yet another fifteen hour shift.

"What about Harry?" James had asked, his worried mind wrapping around his friend's question just a second to late to stop the words coming out of his mouth. It had taken about twenty seconds after that before Sirius stormed out of the house and to the Ministry in search of Remus. He had spend the rest of that night trying to convince Lily -and maybe himself- that worrying more about Adrian was the sensible thing to do; their eldest was the one targeted by Voldemort, chased after for a power he couldn't even yet grasp completely. And, as he went further into his teenage years, Dumbledore had warned them said power would manifest more and more violently. Adrian had to be protected and that was that. But then Harry…

"You should come in now." Albus' voice sounded from inside the office, cutting James' ponderings short. With a sigh, he followed his wife in the room, taking a seat in one of the armchairs Albus had conjured for them.

"What in the world happened out there?" Remus asked, straight to the point as always. It was a very good question, James thought. In his mind he could still see the dragon's eyes looking around panicked as its body was covered in molten granite.

"Did you see what Harry did?" The dog animagus on his left asked, running his fingers through his long tresses. "What am I even saying, of course you did! I thought he was going to try stinging spells, not lava!"

"How did he manage to cast a spell like that, Albus?" Lily asked finally, her tone completely confused.

"We all know Harry is a gifted young man." The Headmaster said, sitting down behind his desk. "Just look what he has managed to achieve in such a young age!"

"No one here can disagree with that." Remus muttered, sighing and reclining deeper in his armchair.

"Designing broomsticks and fighting dragons are two very different aspects of magic!" James exclaimed. "I know Harry is smart. He's an excellent student and a prodigy in Arithmancy. So yes, I can see how he might have managed to do so well in crafting. But duelling? Since when can he fight like that?"

"Well, it's not that big a surprise!" Sirius deadpanned, his voice cold. He was glaring at his friend as he had taken to during the past two weeks; if he had inherited one single trait from his family, that would be stubbornness. The dog animagus wouldn't let go of his anger easily.

"What do you mean, Sirius?" Albus asked, his attention focused on his former student.

"James and I both watched that memory from last August. Remember, James?" He asked, his piercing grey gaze back to his childhood friend. "The Death Eater raid? Harry fought like the best of us. He probably saved that Muggle family's lives!" The silence that followed his declaration was deafening.

"We must admit," Remus said, "that we know nothing as of how Harry got so skilled in duelling. He sure didn't learn it from us!" He added bitterly, remembering the times when he had asked James and Dumbledore to let Harry come along. But Harry had always been too young, not the brother they should focus on training. And here we are, the werewolf thought, not knowing a single important thing about his life.

"I wouldn't say that." Dumbledore offered, his look pensive; he too was thinking back, on all those times he had gotten glimpses of the younger Potter twin. Harry had the uncanny ability to fade into the background when he pleased; in the beginning, Dumbledore had thought that he had done it because he was shy. Maybe because he too, like the rest of them understood the need for Adrian to be trained, to be kept alive. Now however, he could see the flaw in his thinking. Harry was a child; how had he managed such a mature attitude towards his brother?

"What do you mean?" Lily asked, trying to wrap her had around everything that had happened in the past day.

"We do know who taught Harry to duel; Severus is one of the best duelling instructors in the country, we can all agree to that, I believe." The Headmaster stated, looking carefully towards James, expecting a reaction.

"So you're saying,  _Snape_  was the one to teach my son how to fight a dragon?" James didn't disappoint. He knew that what Albus had said held some reason; he had seen Severus fight with his own eyes after all.

"Well,  _we_  sure didn't, did we?" Sirius snapped, no small amount of self depreciation in his voice.

"That's not the point, I'm afraid!" Albus interrupted what seemed to be leading to a fight between the two Marauders. "We still don't know how Adrian was entered in the Tournament; no matter how the boys perform, we all agree that Adrian was entered under specific orders." To be completely honest with himself, Dumbledore was more than intrigued as to how Harry had managed to face a dragon the way he had; his control over his magic was spectacular for a boy his age and, even if the spells he had used were common knowledge as the teen himself had claimed, they were difficult to master. Still, he wanted to think more on the subject on his own; maybe Harry shared some of his brother's potential? They were twins after all!

"You are right, of course." Lily agreed, trying to take his husband's mind away from Severus training Harry. With every day that passed, with every new detail she learned of her youngest son's life, she realized just how much of his childhood she had missed. But she still didn't know how to deal with it; how was she to treat a son she didn't even know? So she would focus on what she did know and hope that, with time, she would learn more of the man Harry was becoming. But Adrian was still in danger; Voldemort was still out there, biding his time, regrouping. She had a duty to her eldest son. She would uphold it.

"I have received news that Voldemort may have abandoned his previous hideout…" Albus began, while Remus and Sirius exchanged a saddened look.

'Some habits are hard to break.' Remus thought, as he too concentrated on the conversation. Adrian was in danger, that was true. But Harry shouldn't be marginalised like this. The teen was smart and kind and he didn't deserve the treatment he was receiving. He had seen how all this was affecting him; as mature as Harry was for his years, he was getting frustrated and angry, with every right to do so. And Remus knew the boy had some temper in him; was he provoked to his breaking point, there was no telling what he could do. And the werewolf wasn't certain the Potter family would come out intact out of that one. If Harry decided he wanted a clean break, he would leave and never look back.

Remus wouldn't have that; he had missed out too much as it was. And if Sirius' look was something to go by, his friend was of the same mind as him. He wanted to know Harry better; the bright boy that had revolutionised the racing broomstick industry. The young man that had visited his office last year with cups of warm chocolate and a smile during the days of the full moon. He would not miss out on his nephew's life any more.

While that conversation was taking place, Harry and Adrian were returning to the Common Room, carrying their golden eggs and chatting animatedly with their classmates. Neville was walking with a hand draped over his brother's shoulders, laughing at something Lee had said while Ron was going over every performance of the evening; it seemed that seeing his best friend go against a dragon had knocked some sense in the redhead who was now adamant somebody else had entered Adrian's name in the tournament. That took long enough, Harry mused, answering Ron's questions.

"And the dragon wasn't harmed or anything?" The teen asked, blue eyes eager as he waited for Harry to respond.

"Dragons nest inside active volcanoes, Ron." The green eyed wizard explained, smirking widely. "The dragon, I guess, was more surprised than harmed. Still, I don't envy your brother; it looked furious as it was dragged out of the arena!"

"That was fun to watch!" Neville exclaimed, chuckling openly.

"Well, Alma was always a bit cranky, according to Charlie." Ginny said, shaking her head exasperatedly at her older brother's description of the taller-than-an-average-house dragon.

" _Alma_?" Asked Harry incredulously, staring at Ginny as if she had grown a second head and a tail. "The dragon has a name?"

"Sure does!" Ginny answered, a smirk growing on her lips. "Every dragon in the shelter has a name. And the ones you fought? All females that had just given birth." She shook her head once again, frowning slightly. "It makes you wonder what the Ministry was thinking! Having someone face a grown dragon is deadly enough, one would think. But no, let's make the dragon an angry mother protecting her eggs; that would be better!"

"I can't believe they did that." Harry stated, rubbing his eyes tiredly with his free hand. On her part, Ginny could not believe it either; it had taken her all not to try and make the dragons stop; she wasn't even sure if she could have succeeded had the dragons simply been angered, of course. But mothers terrified for their young? That was a disaster waiting to happen. Charlie, on the few minutes she had managed to talk to him before he had to return to his team, was adamant it had been a miracle nobody was severely injured. From the little she had learned of dragons, Ginny tended to agree with her brother.

"Angry mothers of any kind are terrifying, mate!" Fred exclaimed as his twin nodded furiously.

"Crazy buggers." Harry muttered, still thinking of whoever had made such a decision, before his attention was reverted to a lone figure in the other side of the Great Hall, heading for the dungeons. "I'll catch up with you, okay?" He said, looking at Neville; the brown eyed boy was confused for a second until he too noticed the same thing his brother had.

"Of course." Neville said, looking towards the group of Gryffindors around them. "What say you we make a small detour towards the kitchens?" He asked, getting a loud roar of approval from his fellow classmates and effectively taking the attention away from Harry. The green eyed wizard smiled at his brother as he ran after the Slytherin boy that had almost disappeared from sight.

"Hey, Draco!" he called, the surprised gazes of Slytherin students following him as he approached the blonde. "Wait up!" Draco did just that, turning around, looking completely surprised at the Gryffindor.

"Yes, Harry?" Draco asked, grey eyes widening as the other boy smiled.

"I just wanted to say thank you." Harry said, smiling even wider at the face of Draco's befuddlement. "You helped. You helped a lot."

"I…" Draco stuttered before shaking his head and saying; "Never mention it."

"Well, I could do that," Harry said, "or ask you if you'd like to help some more."

"What?" Draco asked, trying to judge if Harry was making fun of him or not.

"It's simple really." The Gryffindor said, lifting up the egg in with both hands. "You see, I know what this is." Harry stated, telling the truth; while helping Severus with the Wolfsbane, he had researched all sorts of confusing ingredients. Merpeople's tears had recognised healing properties, so he had done some general research on the race. Finding out they laid eggs had been mentioned once or twice and a picture had accompanied the description. It was obvious that the golden egg was artificial but Harry had made the mistake to open it a few moments after he had left the tent under Neville's urging. The piercing scream that had emanated from the egg left little to imagination.

"Then why do you need my help?" The blonde asked, confusion still clear on his face.

"I have no idea what it's for!" Harry exclaimed! They had started gathering a small group around them, mostly Slytherins looking at the unlikely duo in surprise. "I thought you might be interested." Draco blinked once, before smiling softly.

"Okay, sure." He said, making Harry smile in return.

"Tomorrow then? After dinner?" Draco nodded in agreement. "Excellent!" Harry exclaimed. "Neville and I will be waiting at the Great Hall's entrance once we're done eating!"

"I'll be there." Draco stated, nodding.

"Of course you will!" Severus said, making both teens jump up in shock, not having noticed him approaching. The potions master was smiling brightly at his son and Draco. "And before I leave, ten points to each of you for inter-house solidarity!" And thus he walked away, humming softly to himself, leaving a chuckling Harry and a gaping Draco in his wake.

"Till tomorrow, then!" Harry exclaimed, bidding Draco goodnight. The Slytherin nodded back, still somehow disbelieving of everything that had just happened. Harry, on his part, walked back to the Common Room as fast as he could; he was tired and hungry and he knew both his bed and a small feast were waiting for him in the Gryffindor tower. He wasn't disappointed; the cheers that erupted when he walked in pointed out he was being expected so the party could start. If one excepted Adrian's misjudged attempt to open the egg a little after midnight, the night passed wonderfully.

The day after the task, Harry woke up well rested and just in time for lunch. He had picked his bag from the floor, emptied it of all books and in placed only the golden egg. He shook Neville awake -after a week of sleeping three hours every night both teens needed the rest- and got ready for the day. Students of all Houses stared at him openly as he walked down the corridors, whispers of how he had dealt with the dragon echoing around the halls.

"If this continues," Neville said smirking slyly, catching on some of the more crazy rumours that had been circling, concerning how the dragon had died of its wounds after the task -apparently a friend of a friend had actually seen the dead dragon with their own eyes- "after a few days people will be swearing that you slay dragons every weekend or something."

"And what would you respond to such rumours, Nev?" Harry asked, rolling his eyes playfully. If it wasn't for his brother and his attitude, he would have probably been completely mortified by such rumours. Now however, Neville and his well-aimed sarcasm allowed him to sit back and make fun of such insane notions.

"I would gladly inform them that you only go dragon hunting every second weekend." Neville stated seriously as Harry laughed. "No really, you have to study from times to times to keep up your marks."

"It makes absolute sense, of course." Harry said, green eyes twinkling as they entered the Great Hall; the student body collectively fell silent only to continue gossiping with renewed vigour after a single moment.

"Dragon hunting rumours ahoy!" Neville whispered as they headed for the Gryffindor table, chuckling happily. They ate swiftly, stealing glances towards Harry's bag every once in a while. Harry had explained his suspicions about the egg and Draco's acceptance to come help them finding out what they were supposed to do with it and, even if it had only been a day after the first task, having an actual clue about the next one had only made them want to solve the puzzle as soon as possible. So, they said their goodbyes to their classmates and left in a haste.

"Where are you going?" Adrian asked, looking at his twin suspiciously.

"There's a certain golden egg I want to work on, Adrian!" Harry exclaimed, smiling widely.

"But the first task was yesterday!" The older twin complained, trying his hardest not to think about the dragon he had faced.

"Yes, and this time, we have a clue!" The green eyed teen said. "Rather exciting, is it not?" And he turned away, walking towards the exit of the room, Neville in tow.

"Your brother may be mental." They heard Ron state. "Brilliant, mind you, but mental!" Needless to say, Harry and Neville were still chuckling as they reached the doors and stepped out. To their surprise, Draco was already there, waiting for them.

"Perfect timing!" Harry said, looking at the Slytherin expectantly; Draco however, didn't share his enthusiasm.

"Okay, Malfoy, what happened?" Neville asked, having caught on the blonde's mood.

"My father happened." Draco muttered. Harry noticed he was holding a scrunched up parchment in his fist; judging from bits and pieces of an elegant handwriting he could see, it wasn't difficult to deduce the Slytherin had received a letter from home.

"Bad news?" Harry asked, hoping for the best; he didn't really care much about Draco's parents, but the son of the Malfoys had started to prove he was something more than he had shown so far. And no matter what, he would never wish somebody's family harm; he had been on the receiving end of many attempts towards his own family to even think of harming somebody else's.

"Same news, actually." Draco stated, sighing softly. "Just with an added bonus."

"I'm not following." Neville admitted, looking at the letter speculatively. "But if you don't want to explain, that's fine with…"

"No, it's…" Draco interrupted him, looking towards the two Gryffindors for the first time that day. "It's just that father always felt like telling me what to do with my life. And news reached him that I was, how did he put it?" Draco said and unfolded the letter, his eyes roaming over the words as he looked for the specific wording his father had used. "Oh, here it is. He said I was, and I quote, "seen mingling with people not only beneath you but ones that embody the exact opposite of what you should seek in acquaintances"." Silence followed his declaration and Draco sighed again, ready to tell the two teens to forget about it, that he was used to it by now. And then, Harry and Neville started laughing.

"Does he talk the way he writes?" Harry asked as Neville wheezed, trying to breathe. " _Ones that embody the exact opposite_ , dear Merlin!" Harry had tried to assume an important voice before breaking into laughter again. Draco, who had been too shocked to react in the beginning, finally catching on to the mood and bursting out into laughter himself.

"You know, I had never really stopped to notice how he sounds sometimes." Draco admitted.

"You know you don't have to do everything he says, right?" Neville asked.

"I know." Draco admitted. "It's just that… I'm used to it, I guess. And I'd rather he didn't have the other Slytherins 'looking after me'. Oh, he can do that!" He added, noticing the bewildered expression on Harry's and Neville's faces. "He'll send a letter or two to their parents, their parents will write to them in turn and I'll end up with a group of watchdogs."

"That's…" Harry began but soon stopped, unable to continue with a word to express what he was thinking of the way the Malfoy patriarch operated.

"Yes, I know." Draco answered, not needing Harry to continue.

"So, he's going to make your life miserable if you hang out with us?" Neville enquired, looking at Draco thoughtfully; he had no idea how a parent could do that to their child. Even if his grandmother was stern, she had never intervened with the friends he chose. Sure, she had shown preferences, but had ultimately accepted his choices.

"Basically." Draco admitted.

"What if you were just keeping a close eye on  _us_  though?" Harry asked after some consideration, a small smile creeping on his lips.

"Excuse me?" Draco asked, looking at Neville for help. Neville simply made a movement with his hand that the blonde Slytherin interpreted as 'roll with it'. Keeping that advice in mind -and thinking that Neville had probably been passing the same advice on frequently- he listened as Harry clarified what he meant;

"I'm Adrian's brother." Harry said. "And lately, I've been acting weirdly. Maybe you thought that was worth looking into. Perhaps you believe keeping me away from my family's influence could be beneficial in the long term?"

"That's not what I've been… oh." Draco had started to protest, only to cut his rant short as he noticed the sly grin on Harry's face. "Why aren't you in Slytherin?"

"I think I can sometimes be too much of a hothead for the house of the cunning." Harry admitted, shrugging. "But I have my moments."

"That, you do." Neville offered, looking at his brother with a proud gleam in his eyes; crisis adverted.

"I dare say my father will be delighted with me taking such initiative; I will make sure to write him tonight and clear things up." Draco said, smiling brightly.

"Great!" Neville exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. "Now, shall we proceed with that egg or what?" It was quite obvious they could not examine the egg in the library. The piercing screams would get them banned for life if Madam Pince had a saying. After much consideration -and some reluctance- they found themselves in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.

"Delightful setting." Draco muttered, looking around, taking in the grime on the walls and the permanently flooded floor. Moaning Myrtle, who had heard his comment, simply opted for a wail before jumping through a drain to Merlin knew where. "And I rest my case." Draco added, shaking his head in exasperation.

"So," Neville said, as Harry took the egg out of his bag, "let's hear it." It was a miracle no mirrors broke as the egg produced a sound that could put Myrtle's wails to shame.

"What I can guess so far," Draco stated, rubbing his temples, "is that you'll have to complete the next task before your head explodes."

"I concur. And I think I've gone partially deaf." Neville offered, looking at the golden egg with complete hatred.

"No, let's think about this." Harry said, placing the egg down carefully as if afraid that a sudden movement would cause the screeching to commence once more. "This is a mermaid's egg."

"A what?" Draco asked, looking at the golden egg with renewed interest.

"Well, a facsimile of one." Harry elaborated. "I have read a thing or two about the merpeople in the past; their eggs look like that, though they're not part golden, of course."

"Do they all scream at you?" Neville asked smirking.

"No, but merpeople in general might." Harry stated.

"You mean that's how they sound?" Draco asked. "I thought they were supposed to have voices so great, they could lure ships to their doom."

"Underwater." Harry said, looking at the egg in consideration.

"What?"

"I mean, their voices sound beautiful while they are underwater. I have no idea how they sound above water." The green eyed teen admitted, not able to recall having read anything of the sort.

"So, let's open the egg underwater." Draco said, placing the tap on one of the sinks and turning the water on.

"Quick thinking." Neville said, waiting for the water to fill the sink completely; it would be just enough to cover the egg from the look of it.

"Thanks." Draco said, turning off the water as Harry approached with the egg.

"Here goes." Harry stated, rolling up his sleeves and dunking the egg in the water. He carefully opened the egg, preparing for another wave of wailing that never came. Instead, the sound coming clear from the shallow water, a song echoed in the room.

Come seek us where our voices sound,  
We cannot sing above the ground,  
And while you're searching ponder this;  
We've taken what you'll sorely miss,  
An hour long you'll have to look,  
And to recover what we took,  
But past an hour, the prospect's black,  
Too late it's gone, it won't come back.

"What was that supposed to mean?" Neville asked while the song started again from the beginning.

"Well," Harry began, listening to the lyrics carefully, "from what I can tell, I will have to go someplace where the merpeople can sing, that must mean underwater, searching for something that has been take n from me."

"And you will have an hour as a time limit." Draco added.

"Where our voices sound…" Neville muttered, repeating the lyrics of the song. "Do you think they'll take you out to open seas for the task?"

"I don't think so." Draco said. "All the tasks are supposed to be executed in the grounds of the host school."

"Merlin no!" Harry exclaimed, closing the egg and taking a step back, looking at it accusingly.

"What?" Draco and Neville chorused, surprised at his outburst.

"How much do you want to bet there are merpeople in the lake?" Harry questioned the two teens, his mind already thinking about the giant squid and the dark waters it inhabited.

 


	58. 'Tis The Season

As it turned out, there really were merpeople in the lake. Harry had read over  _Hogwarts; A History_  once again and had made quite certain of the fact. Then, not wanting to believe he would have to dive into a frozen lake in the middle of winter, he had double checked with his father.

"You picked up on that clue rather fast!" Severus exclaimed, sitting on his favorite armchair next to the fireplace in his office. The pride in his expression was evident, but his son's spirits didn't seem to lift.

"I hate my luck sometimes." Was Harry's single comment to the potions master's praise.

"At least this time you'll have time to prepare." Severus reasoned, pouring him a cup of tea, smiling encouragingly.

"Why yes!" Harry exclaimed sarcastically, pouting slightly even as he accepted the offered tea from his father. "I'll have about two months contemplating how I have to dive into the lake. In February. The lake is usually frozen over during February!  _Frozen_!" He repeated for emphasis.

"I know." Severus said, wincing at the mental image his son's words produced. He had tried not to think about what was going to happen come the second task but now it was proving more and more difficult; it wasn't just the icy water. Severus was well aware of what could happen once inside that lake. There were magical creatures in abundance, the merpeople themselves and he didn't even want to think about the giant squid and any possible chance encounter it might have with his son.

"So do I, that's the problem." Harry said, looking at the fire contemplatively. "And then there's the issue of breathing underwater for an hour in addition to searching for whatever there is that will be taken from me."

"Well, there's that too." Severus muttered, sighing deeply. The second task, if he had understood what Dumbledore had said correctly, would include something slightly short of kidnapping. And with the Headmaster deciding who would be taken, Severus expected Harry would get the shock of his life; if his suspicions were correct -and they rarely weren't, not when he had put as much thought into something as he had on this instance- Dumbledore would have wished for Adrian to be the one Harry had to seek out. But with his twin competing, Lily and James working for the Ministry and himself being one of the teaching stuff and thus immediately disqualified, Neville was probably going to be the one who would be joining Harry for a swim. His son would be furious once he found out.

"Judging from your reaction, I won't like what's in store." Harry deduced, observing Severus' expression sift from worry to contemplation.

"No, I should imagine not." The potions master agreed, not in position to say anything more than that. "On the bright side," he continued, smiling slightly, "there is something that will be announced later today that will have you focusing on something more than the second task."

"And what may that be?" Harry asked, green eyes twinkling at the perceived challenge.

"You'll find out later today, don't worry!" Severus stated with a smirk, before reminding his son that classes were about to start in a few minutes. Harry walked out of his father's office, his mind occupied by whatever Severus had meant with his last statement. He dearly hoped it had nothing to do with dragons!

The remainder of the morning passed in a relatively calm pace. Perhaps too calm if one included the two hours the fourth year Gryffindors had spent in Professor Binn's class, pretending to listen to yet another dreary lecture on a goblin rebellion. Harry made a mental note to ask Nagnok if the goblins were rebelling solely to torture the wizarding youth at Hogwarts, since, if he wasn't mistaken, the specific rebellion had started due to an insult to a certain goblin's personal hygiene, or rather the alleged disregard of it.

It was only after lunch, at the end of his Transfiguration class which the Gryffindors had spent turning the guinea fowls they had been given into guinea pigs, when his father's words made sense.

"If I could have your attention for a moment, before you leave for lunch. I have something to tell you all." Professor McGonagall stated, looking at her students in absolute seriousness. Harry and Neville exchanged a look; one never knew what would happen when professor McGonagall assumed such a look. It could mean anything, from and approaching exam to Death Eaters attacking the school. What was certain however was that, whatever it was, the Transfiguration teacher thought it to be of the utmost importance. "The Yule Ball is approaching; a traditional part of the Triwizard Tournament and an opportunity for us to socialize with our foreign guests. Now, the ball will be open only to fourth years and above, although you may invite a younger student if you wish…"

Lavender Brown let out a shrill giggle. Parvati Patil nudged her hard in the ribs, her face working furiously as she too fought not to giggle. They both looked around at Harry. Professor McGonagall ignored them, while Neville turned to Harry with a manic glee in his eyes.

"Look, Harry; volunteers!" The raven haired wizard glared at his grinning brother trough narrowed eyes while McGonagall carried on;

"Dress robes will be worn," Professor McGonagall continued, "and the ball will start at eight o'clock on Christmas Day, finishing at midnight in the Great Hall. Now then," Professor McGonagall stared deliberately around the class. "The Yule Ball is of course a chance for us all to, er, let our hair down," she said, in a disapproving voice. The giggling this time was more pronounced and coming from sources that included but were not limited to Lavender Brown.

"How would McGonagall look with her hair down, I wonder?" Neville muttered, mostly to himself, an eyebrow cocked in contemplation. This time it was Harry that had to stifle a chuckle as his brother shook his head, adding; "One of our times' greatest mysteries!"

"But that does  _not_  mean," Professor McGonagall went on, "that we will be relaxing the standards of behaviour we expect from Hogwarts students. I will be most seriously displeased if a Gryffindor student embarrasses the school in any way."

"Oh joy." Harry muttered, a smile frozen on his face, his mind trailing on what would happen to the poor Gryffindor who'd embarrass the school in any way. The bell rang the students around the classroom started gathered their books, all talking about the Yule Ball.

"Adrian and Harry Potter! A word if you please." McGonagall called, just as Harry was about to ask Neville who he was thinking of taking to the ball, only so he too could get a chance to smirk at his brother.

"I'll be waiting outside." Neville assured Harry who walked towards the Transfiguration professor hesitantly.

"So, you two." She said, looking at them critically over the rim of her glasses. "Have you thought who your dancing partners will be?"

"Probably, yes." Harry stated with a smile and an image of long blond hair in his mind.

"Our what?" Adrian asked at the same time, his eyes widening as all blood drained from his face.

"Your partners for the Yule Ball, Potter," she said coldly, looking at Adrian. "Your  _dance partners._ "

"But I don't dance!" Adrian complained.

"It's really not that hard, don't worry." Harry assured him, smiling as supportively as he could manage.

"I don't dance!" Adrian repeated, his voice showing traces of panic.

"Oh yes, you do," said Professor McGonagall irritably. "That's what I'm telling you. Traditionally, the champions and their partners open the ball."

"Huh." Harry muttered, remembering his only other experience of such a dance. As the champion of the Rennes tournament, he had had to open the ball then too. Of course, back then, his father had been dancing right next to him. Well, he figured, if he could face a dragon, he could certainly brave a school dance!

"I'm not dancing," Adrian stated for the third time.

"It is traditional," said Professor McGonagall firmly. "You are a Hogwarts champion, and you will do what is expected of you as a representative of the school. So make sure you get yourself a partner, Potter." Or we will see what happens to someone who embarrasses the school in McGonagall's eyes after all, Harry added inwardly.

"I can't believe we have to dance!" Adrian declared for the fifth time since they had left the classroom. The twins, along with Neville, Ron and Hermione, were all walking towards the Great Hall, listening to Adrian grumble about his predicament.

"It's bloody awful, that's what it is!" Ron agreed wholeheartedly.

"Language, Ron!" Hermione admonished, while Harry and Neville shared an amused look.

"It's not the end of the world, you know." Harry said, smiling at his twin.

"Isn't it, Harry?" Adrian asked, looking around the hallway in panic, as if he was going to be attacked at any given second.

"Hey there!" Two identical voices sounded from behind them, Fred and George having spotted them from around the corner.

"Hello, Fred, George." Harry greeted them.

"If we were to judge by or dear Ron's expression…" Fred began.

"… we'd probably say you heard of the Ball!" George finished his twin's sentence.

"We have." Neville offered, smiling widely. "And they," he added, pointing towards Adrian and Ron, "are slowly descending into panic."

"You seem to be faring better." Fred noted, observing Neville's smirk and Harry's nonchalant attitude.

"Bottom line, it's just a dance." Neville offered, shrugging.

"You can talk!" Adrian exclaimed. "McGonagall said that champions and their dancing partners open the ball!"

"For Merlin's sake, Adrian!" Hermione said, rolling her eyes at her best friends' antics. "Harry's a champion too and I don't see him panicking!"

"I don't get it!" Adrian stated, looking at his twin in complete exasperation. "Why are you not terrified?"  
"Because I already know who I'm going to ask." Harry said, smiling calmly, inwardly wishing the girl in question would say yes.

"Cool beans!" Fred offered, smiling widely, making Harry chuckle.

"And do we get to know who the lucky lady is?" George inquired, looking towards the green eyed wizard expectantly.

"Actually…" Neville trailed off, looking straight ahead before smirking to his brother. Harry turned towards the direction Neville had pointed out before smiling widely; his brother could have read his mind for all he knew.

"You have to be kidding me!" Ron exclaimed, blue eyes widening in shock.

"You can't ask  _her_!" Adrian exclaimed in disbelief.

"Why not?" Harry asked. His twin looked affronted.

"Because she's…"

"Beautiful?" The green eyed wizard provided.

"And she's…"

"A great person?" Harry interrupted his twin once more.

"You can't be serious!" Adrian stated, truly not believing his twin would find it in him to dare such a thing. Harry rolled his eyes, wondering why it came as such a surprise; it was common knowledge that they had met before the Tournament after all.

"Watch me." Harry simply stated and smiled towards Neville who was almost ready to burst out in laughter at Adrian and Ron's bewildered expressions. He then walked away from the small group and towards the Beauxbatons' girls up ahead. "Fleur!" He called, getting the girl's attention before she walked into the corridor towards the Great Hall.

"'Arry?" She asked, smiling widely at him.

"Hello." Harry said, returning the smile and firmly ordering his stomach to stop fluttering. He was doing this and that was that.

"I've been hoping you'd come talk to me today." The girl admitted, making Harry's smile come easier than before.

"And I've been hoping," The raven haired teen said, "if you'd do me the honor of accompanying me at the Yule Ball. I've missed dancing with you." He admitted, causing Fleur to smile brightly and her friends giggle in excitement.

"'Arry?" Fleur asked again, stepping closer, looking around the corridor.

"Yes?" Harry barely managed to ask back before she brought her lips on his for a swift kiss. The giggles commenced once more as Harry tried to gather his wits enough to form a coherent sentence. "I think I'll take the liberty to interpret this as a 'yes'."

"I think you should." Fleur offered, turning around to rejoin her friends. "And 'Arry?" She asked over her shoulder. "I've missed dancing with you too." And she winked at him before walking towards the Great Hall. Harry waited until she was out of sight before walking approaching his friends, smiling widely.

"Told you it wasn't that hard." He said, looking at a dumbfounded Adrian. Fred and George cheered and clapped him on his back while Ron stared at him with an awed expression plastered on his face.

"Nicely done!" Neville congratulated his brother, punching him on the shoulder playfully.

"Now let's go sit at the table so nobody will notice my knees giving way." Harry whispered, causing his brother to chuckle as he threw an arm over his shoulders.

The news that Harry Potter and Fleur Delacour were going to the ball together had spread faster than a wildfire and by the time Neville and Harry met up with Draco for their daily visit to the library, it was quite obvious they had reached the Slytherins too.

"I understand congratulations are in order." Draco said, smirking towards Harry.

"Not you too!" The green eyed wizard exclaimed, turning his resigned gaze towards the heavens. Neville had spent the entire afternoon teasing him and now it seemed that Draco was ready to follow his example as well.

"He simply congratulated you, Harry." Neville offered, grinning at the Slytherin. "It's not like some people who all but wrote an ode to Fleur's golden hair, lamenting how they missed their chance for a dance."

"Someone did that?" Draco asked, laughing as Harry rolled his eyes.

"Can we not comment on that?" He asked as he recalled a rather awkward conversation -more of a monologue really as he hadn't manage to utter a word himself- he had had with Ravenclaw's Quidditch team captain a few hours ago.

"No." Neville and Draco chorused, their expressions clearly stated they were going to comment on it to their heart's delight.

"Merlin!" Harry exclaimed, trying to come up with something quickly and change the subject. "How about you, Draco? Have you decided on whom you'll ask to the Ball?" The blonde frowned and shook his head dejectedly.

"I've been to so many dances in my life, I'd rather not attend." He admitted as they climbed the stairs towards the library. "But after doing my best to convince my father that I'm spying on you, I'd rather not give him more reason to get aggravated. So I asked Pansy; I'll dance with her a bit, my father will be pleased and then I can enjoy the rest of the evening."

"Makes some sense, I suppose." Harry admitted, wishing things were less complicated between Draco and his father.

"At least I negotiated myself out of having to wear that velvet monstrosity mother called evening robes! How about you, Neville?" The Slytherin asked, looking at the brown haired boy.

"I have no idea." Neville admitted. "I'm not even sure I want to go, to be honest."

"Come on!" Draco exclaimed, looking at the Gryffindor intently. "If I have to suffer Pansy rambling about shoes you could at least show some solidarity and make an appearance!"

" _Shoes_?" Neville asked before resolving into laughter, the other two teens following suit. "We'll see." Neville stated and Draco proceeded to number all the reasons why he should go to the ball, making an effort to convince him. Harry simply observed their interaction, marveling on how Draco had opened up to them. He still was as sly and acerbic as ever, that was certain, but there was no malice behind his words any longer; he had managed to go from a semi-hostile acquaintance to something very close to a friend in the course of a month. Given the time who knew? Maybe a real friend he could be.

Over the next two weeks, the three teens had poured over books related to merpeople and anything to do with breathing underwater. Neville had suggested they looked under the general category of protective charms and there they had found a spell that would allow Harry to breathe under water, encasing his head into a bubble of air. Harry filed it under a list of possible spells he could use but was once again determined to come up with something more. He felt as if he had set the bar high in the first task and he wanted to continue like that if possible.

The only think that broke that daily routine was the arrival of the latest model of the Firebolt. It had come by owl one Friday morning and Harry, keeping his promise, had offered it to Krum for a test flight. The Seeker had been thrilled to do just that and had spent the whole walk back to the castle from the Quidditch field singing the Firebolt's praises. In the last five minutes however, just before they had entered Hogwarts, he had gone silent and, finally, stopped him by placing a hand on his shoulder his expression solemn.

"Harry, may I ask you a question?" He enquired as Harry nodded, completely perplexed. "You know Hermy-own, right?" He continued, managing to confuse Harry further. "Vat I mean to say is, you are in the same year as her?" Her? Harry wondered before it hit him; but why was Victor asking about Hermione?

"Yes, I am." He agreed.

"So." Krum said, taking in a deep breath. "Does she have a boyfriend?" And Harry's eyes almost popped out from their sockets.

"No." He said, shaking his head slightly, mostly to clear it than anything else. "As far as I know, she's single."

"Good." Krum said, nodding to himself. "I vant to ask her to the Ball." Despite his shock, Harry managed a small smile.

"I think you should; she's a nice girl. And very smart too." Krum returned the smile and nodded in complete agreement.

And just about when Harry had thought he had heard all there was that would shock him that week, Saturday rolled over. He had been walking towards the Great Hall with Nev and Draco, all three caught up in a discussion on what subject they should continue their research. Harry had found some old books on merpeople lore he felt they should look into and they were trying to come up with the most efficient method of reading them -they were originally written in the Middle Ages and, even if not a part of the forbidden section, they had parts that were almost illegible or in want of translation- when they happened upon an unexpected sight.

As they walked out of the library and towards the Grand Staircase, they heard two voices arguing. It was clearly one male and one female and, unless Harry was mistaken, the male one belonged to none other than Ron Weasley.

"Now what?" Neville asked when it became clear that there would be no reaching the staircase without passing by a now screaming Ron.

"We wait till this blows over?" Draco suggested, shrugging. "I, for one, don't wish to go through  _that_." And he peered around the corner to see exactly what was going on. "Why is Weasley arguing with his sister?"

"Ginny?" Harry asked, unable to help himself; he too peered towards the argument, his eyes taking over the scene. It was indeed Ginny and Ron and they were caught in a fiery argument. And by the youngest Weasley's side, stood a girl with long blond hair that seemed vaguely familiar.

"Isn't that Luna Lovegood?" Neville asked, looking towards the commotion himself.

"She's a Ravenclaw, right?" Draco asked, trying to put the pieces together.

"I think she and Ginny are friends." Harry whispered as Ron started shouting once more.

"I just don't understand why you don't want to go to the ball with Adrian!" He exclaimed, his face turning red.

"Why should I?" His sister spat back, her hands clasped on her waist. "Just because he didn't ask Chang soon enough…"

"Oh come on, Ginny!" Ron said, raising his head above his head in exasperation. "You can go with Adrian and I'll as Hermione and then we'll all be happy!"

"I don't want to go to the ball with Adrian, Ronald." Ginny stated, rubbing her eyes tiredly. Harry felt like they were intruding but, in all honesty, the two Weasleys were arguing in the middle of a corridor they needed to use. "If I went to the ball, and I really don't feel like going, I would rather it be with somebody I liked; somebody who actually asked me to go because he wanted to. So, the answer's no."

"Now you're being silly!" Ron stated, his eyes turning towards Luna. "I understand how you might not want to leave poor Loony alone but…" He never managed to complete his sentence as Ginny did the last thing any of them expected; she pulled out her wand.

"You can say whatever you want to me, Ronald, but you don't get to insult my friends." She said, eyes blazing as she advanced on her brother; Ron, despite being over a head taller than her, took a step backwards.

"Ginny, I…"

"No!" She said, apparently having heard enough. "You're my brother and I love you, but you can be a complete git sometimes. Now go." She ordered, as Ron nodded. "And get your act together and ask Hermione before somebody else does!"

The three teens shared a look from their hiding spot, still unsure about how to proceed. Neville looked vaguely angered about something and Draco opened his mouth to speak before Ginny's voice sounded once more.

"I can't believe the nerve of him sometimes." She said, placing a hand on Luna's shoulder comfortingly. What however seemed most out of place, wasn't Ginny's offered comfort to her friend, but Luna herself. From the few times Harry had seen her, he could recall an elfin girl, with long blond hair and a dreamy expression in wide open eyes. Now however, she looked straight at Ginny, no sign of the perpetual curiosity that she sported everyday evident on her face.

"You don't have to defend me like that." Luna said, her voice tired. "You certainly don't have to fight with your brother over me; I've gotten used to…"

"No!" Ginny interrupted her, her voice adamant. "You're my friend and that's what friends do; Ron had no right to insult you.  _Nobody_  has the right to insult you and you should not get used to it!"

"Thank you, Ginny." The Ravenclaw said, smiling softly.

"Harry?" Neville muttered, looking towards the two girls.

"Yes, Nev?" Harry asked, turning his attention towards his brother.

"I'm feeling spontaneous." The brown eyed teen stated as he squared his shoulders and walked towards Ginny and Luna in determination.

"What?" Draco asked, looking at Harry who simply shrugged, having no idea what Neville had in mind. In the meantime, Neville had approached the two girls who were clearly stunned by his sudden appearance.

"Hi, Ginny." He said and the girl barely managed to nod in acknowledgment before Neville turned his attention towards Luna. "I know we haven't talked much in the past," he said to the Ravenclaw, "and that we don't really know each other well but I guess that's what these things are for after all…"

"You're Neville." Luna said, too shocked to assume her usual dreamy expression. "Neville Longbottom; you're a fourth year."

"That's a start." Neville stated, nodding once and smiling brightly. Even from where Harry stood he could see Luna's face turn slightly pink.

"Go Neville!" Draco muttered, a soft smile playing on his lips as he observed the same thing Harry had. The green eyed teen couldn't have put it better if he tried.

"As I was saying." Neville continued. "I don't know you well enough but I would like to and… would you like to go to the ball with me?" Luna froze, her blue eyes widening, her lips parting in shock. Ginny, who was smiling brighter than the sun right over Neville's shoulder nodded her head in affirmative vividly.

"Yes." Luna said finally, a small smile appearing on her face. "I would like that, I think."

"Great!" Neville exclaimed smiling brightly as Luna giggled. Seeing the two of them didn't appear ready to move any time soon, Harry stepped towards them too, Draco following close behind.

"Well done, Nev!" He congratulated his brother as Draco clapped his shoulder once. The two girls looked surprised at the appearance of yet two more boys -especially considering one of them was Draco Malfoy who was currently smiling- and shared a look of complete bewilderment.

"Oh, don't mind us!" Draco stated. "We were just leaving!" And he pointed towards the direction of the staircase.

"Yes, we were." Harry assured them, still smiling.

"So, see you later?" Neville asked, looking at Luna. The girl nodded, tucking her blond hair behind her ear as she smiled shyly.

"Yes." She said. "Good night, Neville."

"Good night, Luna." The Gryffindor returned the sentiment as Ginny grasped Luna's hand and led her towards the library, smiling brightly and bidding the boys goodbye.

"Did I just ask a girl to the ball?" Neville wondered out loud as the two girls turned around the corner and out of their eyesight.

"I think you did." Harry said, a grin etched on his lips.

"I think so too." Neville said, his own smile reappearing.

 


	59. The Ball

"Will you keep whistling all the way to the library?" Draco Malfoy asked one Neville Longbottom as they walked through the almost empty corridors of Hogwarts; the majority of the student body was outdoors enjoying the snow now that the school was over for the holidays. Harry however was still puzzling over the golden egg and any alternatives that would, as he put it, 'prevent him from placing all his chances of completing the second task and maintaining the lead on a bubble of air, be that enchanted or not'. As a result, the green eyed wizard, along with his brother and their new and unexpected -dare he say it?- friend, were once again headed to the library.

"I think I will." Neville offered, grinning like a madman. "The holiday spirit and all, you know."

"So now Luna is the holiday spirit?" Draco asked smirking, only resulting in Neville's grin to widen even more.

"Come on!" The Gryffindor exclaimed, his good mood persisting. "There's nothing wrong with feeling the holiday's cheer! And, yes, I will not deny that a certain Ravenclaw may have something to do with my mood. Can you blame me?" Neville asked, eyebrow cocking but no true signs of rebuke appearing on his face.

"No. I mean, I have a date with a girl that has the uncanny ability to talk about herself for hours without stopping to take a breath. But, yeah, your date is nice too I suppose." It was laughter that accompanied the three teens to the remaining of their walk.

"Well, some holiday cheer could do me a world of good." Harry stated as they walked into the library.

"If I hear you complaining about your date, I'm kicking you, so help me Merlin." Draco whispered, dropping his bag on the floor and walking towards the now familiar selves to retrieve an ancient tome he had been reading the day before.

"If I catch myself complaining about my date, I'm going to kick myself, trust me." Harry stated, rolling his eyes. "I was talking about the…"

"Golden egg." Neville and Draco chorused, completing his sentence.

"Well, yes." Harry admitted, plopping down and pulling out his notes from the past week. "We've read more about the merepeople than I ever thought was possible and my best solution so far is a bloody bubble!"

"It's something at least." Neville reminded his disheartened brother as he too took his place behind a pile of books.

"It's a bubble-head charm, Nev." The green eyed wizard exclaimed, his voice exasperated. "Last task, I turned a dragon into a statue."

"And you want to come up with something equally awe inspiring, I know." Draco offered, skimming over some text on the different tribes of merepeople in Europe.

"Planning to dry out the lake?" A deep and familiar voice sounded from behind them, causing Harry to turn around and smile; Madame Pince made to protest for the disturbance in the otherwise quiet -and admittedly almost empty- library, only to catch herself the moment he realized who it was that had spoken. One did not shush Severus Snape after all.

"There's a thought!" Harry stated, moving a bit to the left so that his father could be seated next to him. "What are you doing here? I thought you were preparing for your meeting with the Minister?" Fudge had sent Severus a letter that very morning, informing Severus that his presence would be required at the Ministry of Magic later that afternoon; the potions master had no idea what Fudge wanted but he dearly hoped it had nothing to do with yet another social event he was to be roped into.

"It's difficult to prepare when you don't even know what you're preparing for, so I decided to pay you a visit instead." Severus admitted, winking at his son. Draco, who was still unaccustomed to witnessing the close relationship between the Head of his House and Harry first hand, simply stood and observed everything in relative bewilderment while Neville smiled at the now familiar scene.

"It's difficult to prepare even when you  _do_  know what you're preparing for." Harry muttered and motioned towards the books that were littered on the desk in front of them. Severus winced in commiseration before picking up one of the tomes.

"Some of these are downright ancient." He noted, reading through a passage written in an archaic form of English.

"We're working on the translation." Neville offered with a smirk as he pointed to the even older book in Draco's hands.

"I see." The potions master said, looking towards the Slytherin, smiling softly at the sight. "Good to see you out and about, Mr. Malfoy; you had restricted yourself in the common room during most of the term. I was getting worried."

"I…" Draco seemed at loss as to how to respond to the honest and slightly concerned tone in which the last statement of the potion master had been spoken. "I'm doing better." He simply said in the end.

"You know," Severus carried on, after acknowledging Draco's declaration without further comments, noticing the blond teen's distress, "the only books I have studied that were older than these where the ones I used in my research for the Wolfsbane; you must remember those books Harry!" The potions master exclaimed.

"Sure I do." Harry admitted. "They would fall apart in your hands if you touched them the wrong way. Anything older would have to be in parchment!" There were bookcases full of such books in his vault after all, a gift from Nicholas. And, as Harry went to take a book from the pile next to him to keep reading, he froze his hand stopping before touching the books.

"Harry?" Neville asked concerned, his eyes focused on his brother. "Harry, are you alright?"

"I'm an idiot." The raven haired Gryffindor stated, his face completely serious.

"No, you're not." Severus stated, his expression mirroring his son's.

"No, really, I am!" Harry insisted, causing Madame Pince to glare daggers at him, still unable to voice her disapproval as long as a professor stood there, seemingly unconcerned.

"And how did you end up with such an assumption?" Draco asked, unable to control his curiosity.

"Sev, could I ask Minnie to bring me some books over?" He didn't need to add from where those books would come from since Severus' expression only remained confused for a fraction of a second before the potions master caught on.

"I don't see why not." He stated, nodding in acquiescence.

"Brilliant!" Harry said, pulling out a blank parchment and scribbling down a quick note of the types of books the house elf would have to search for and bring over before calling her. Minnie appeared, smiling widely at her young master.

"Master Harry? How can I help you?"

"Could you search for any of those books related to these subjects," he said and handed her the parchment, "in my collection and bring them over? You would help me very much if you did."

"Should I deliver them to your rooms, Master Harry?" The elf asked, taking the offered parchment and reading what Harry had written down.

"That would be great, Minnie, thank you." The green eyed wizard answered.

"Search at Silbreith's library too." Severus offered. "I have no idea what books Harry wants, but we might have something relevant." Minnie bowed and disappeared with a loud cracking sound. This time the librarian cleared her throat, her eyes bulging out. Severus grinned at her charmingly and she blushed, ducking her head behind the huge book in her hands.

"I can't take you anywhere." Harry muttered, shaking his head in mock chastisement. Draco gulped, fearing for the worse, but Severus just chuckled and messed his son's hair, the teen trying to swat his father's hand away.

"I should better be going." Severus said, chuckling at Harry's attempts to tame his unruly hair. "I'm curious to see what Fudge wants to talk to me about."

"Sure." Harry said, giving up his efforts with a sigh, admitting this was one battle he could not win.

"And you three should take a break, enjoy the snow for a while." The potions master advised, pointing towards the windows; it was snowing.

"Maybe we will." Harry said, waving his father goodbye. Draco stared at the retreating back of the potions master for a good while before turning his attention back to Harry.

"I read in  _Witch's Weekly_  that he looked after, you while you were growing up." He said, grey eyes locking on green. "Professor Snape, I mean." He clarified.

"He raised me." Harry stated simply, smiling at the overflow of memories. Draco seemed to want to ask more but he soon shook his head, apparently dismissing those questions. It wasn't his place to ask, as much as he would like to know, he thought. Maybe one day Harry would speak about how exactly he came to be raised by the potions master himself; till then, Draco considered their tentative friendship still to new, to fragile to be subjected to prodding questions.

"What are these books you asked Minnie for?" Neville asked, turning the subject of the conversation back to the tournament.

"Anything related to merepeople or breathing underwater." Harry stated, shrugging. "I have no idea what she'll be able to find, of course, but she's very determined." He added, smiling fondly.

"She's the happiest house elf I've ever encountered." Draco stated after some thought. "Father has always advised house elves are to be treated with certain strictness but she seemed… genuinely happy." The Slytherin was quite shocked at his revelation as it had never occurred to him that a house elf could be anything else but meek and silent; it wasn't an observation brought out of malice as it was out of sincere ignorance. Coming from a family where old house elves were beheaded once they had outlived their use, it was a complete new concept to see one smiling and truly glad to serve her masters. It was definitely something he would have to think over.

"Minnie's part of the family, basically." Harry said.

"And she spoils you rotten." Neville added, smirking. Harry chuckled once but nodded, knowing fully well that she did. They only staid at the library for an hour after that, soon finding themselves unable to fight the call of the snow outside. They ended up in a snow fight out in the grounds -but nowhere near the lake, Harry was set on avoiding it for as long as he could- content with throwing snowballs at each other till it was time for dinner. They returned to their respective tables famished but smiling brightly and with faces flushed from the cold.

Ron was throwing Hermione furtive glances from where he sat next to her, Adrian was looking wistfully towards the Ravenclaw table, while Hermione's eyes seemed to be searching something at the opposite side of the room. Harry could bet his new Firebolt on that something being a certain Bulgarian Seeker and champion for Durmstrang.

"It seems that Hermione already has a date for the ball." Neville muttered while leaning in front of Harry, seemingly to scoop some mashed potatoes to his plate.

"Well, what did Ron expect three days before the ball?" Harry muttered, filling his glass with pumpkin juice.

"Is that Hedwig?" Neville then asks out of the blue, causing Harry to look upwards and towards the entrance where the owls fly in the hall from every morning. And it was indeed Hedwig, her white feathers marking her clearly and separating her from all owls in Hogwards. And she was carrying a note, it seemed.

"Whom is it from?" Adrian asked around a mouthful of casserole.

"Sev." Harry stated, worry bursting in his chest. For the first time since he entered the Great Hall he looked towards the staff's table; his father wasn't there, he noticed, and his worry increased tenfold.

"What does he say?" Neville asked, fear creeping in his voice too.

_Meet me at my office after dinner. And don't worry, it's nothing bad._

_S._

"Nothing important." Harry said out loud, not wanting to publically advertise that he would be out of the common room after curfew. He sighed in relief as he showed the note to Neville. "I had asked him to pick up a book for me, from Silbreith, and he wrote that he can't find it where I said it would be. I probably left it at the astronomy tower…" He trailed of, making the story up as we went. It seemed to have the desired effect however as the attention of his classmates was soon captured by the feast in front of the once again. Harry left the Gryffindor table just after dessert, claiming he wanted to ask professor Flitwick something about their latest charm's lesson. Adrian and Ron cast a completely exasperated look his way while Neville cocked an eyebrow in a way that clearly stated he was expecting to hear everything about what had happened later on.

Harry made a show to stop and ask the Head of Ravenclaw a couple of charms related questions before turning towards the dungeons and his father's office. He knocked on the door five minutes later, his curiosity on overdrive; what could have been so important that couldn't wait till morning?

"Come in." Severus' voice sounded from behind the door and immediately Harry could tell something was off. His father didn't sound angry or scared, no. He instead sounded confused.

"Hey, Dad." Harry greeted his father after closing the door. The potions master was sat on his favorite armchair, eyes wide as he stared, not exactly at the dancing flames in the fireplace, but a spot a few inches above them as if completely lost in thought. "Dad, are you alright?"

"Fudge informed me that I'm going to be awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class for my work on the Wolfsbane." Severus announced, his voice monotone, his face blank, as if he was parroting the Minister's words, unable to understand their meaning. Harry blinked once before a large grin appeared on his face, a sense of pride and warmth bursting inside him. He ran forward and threw his arms around his father, laughing happily.

"That's amazing, Dad!" He exclaimed, taking a step back to look Severus in the eyes. The potions master seemed to have somewhat snapped out of his trance, a small smile accompanying his suddenly misty eyes. "You're worth that and much more." Harry continued. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Come here, kid." Severus muttered, pulling his son into his arms, kissing the top of his head. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"Sure you could have!" Harry protested. He very well knew how smart his father was and how hard he had worked on the Wolfsbane these past seven years.

"Harry, I  _couldn't_  have. I would have probably never have started working on the Wolfsbane if it hadn't been for you." The potions master stated, his gaze indicating that he wouldn't be disputed on that fact, that his mind couldn't be swayed.

"Still you deserve this." Harry said, green eyes twinkling. "You know, when I saw Hedwig, I immediately thought something terrible had happened."

"Forgive me if I startled you." Severus said, looking truly apologetic. "I think I would have burst had I waited until the morning!"

"It's quite alright." Harry assured him. "So, when is the award ceremony?"

"The medals are awarded in early March." The potions master informed his son, his smile widening as he spoke. "I still can't believe this!"

"You should." Harry advised. He spent the next three hours at Severus' office, talking about the medal and the tournament and wondering why Fudge couldn't simply send a letter but had to call Severus in person.

"He likes to be seen as the good guy, I'd venture." The potions master stated, shrugging, having better things to ponder upon than the Minister.

The days passed and soon, before Harry knew it, the day of the Yule Ball had arrived. So had the books from Nicholas' collection. Not that Harry had managed to take a closer look at any of the books. He had only skimmed over the titles when he had gotten his hands on them earlier that day, but his nerves had finally caught up with him. He was going to a ball in a few hours, he realized. He was terrified. Neville saw it fit to take both their minds from the ball by engaging in a game of wizard's chess until it was time to get dressed.

The girls of Gryffindor had already abandoned the common room for their dormitories, getting ready for the ball when the two brother's looked up from their game. Adrian was fidgeting in a corner as it was, with Ron standing next to him, looking pale. They were taking the Patil sisters to the dance –very nice girls, Harry surmised, trying to understand the forlorn look on the two teens' faces. Sure they would have preferred somebody else to go with them, but the Patil sisters were quite pleasant and would probably defer from talking too much about clothes and shoes and such, as Draco insisted that his date would. Things could have been worse, he decided.

Ignoring his twin and his redheaded friend, Harry and Neville got dressed swiftly, in black dress robes, crisp shirts and bowties all in order. Harry took a moment to look at himself in the mirror.

"We clean up nicely." He stated, winking at his brother who did the same. They were both well into their teenage years, growing faster than Professor Sprout's poison ivy, but thanks to swordplay had a little bit more to them that long legs and elbows to show.

"That, we do." Neville decided, looking at himself on the mirror with a critical eye.

"Bloody hell!" Ron's voice sounded from the other side of the room. "I'm not wearing this!" The red head was clad from head to toe in a maroon set of dress robes, yellowed lace covering the sleeves and much of its front.

"Merlin, I'm blind." Harry muttered as Neville turned around to hide his laughter. Looking at his watch, he realized it had a little after seven thirty; it was about time to head towards the Great Hall. "And now, for the nerve-raking part." He said, looking at Neville for comfort. His brother squared his shoulders and walked out the room, Harry following close after him.

As it turned out, they were quite early; there were many boys waiting for their dates right outside the Great Hall, all wearing identical masks of various stages of unnerve. Doing his best not to walk up and down the corridor or fidget, Harry opted instead to cross his arms in front of his chest and wait in silence. For all his waiting, it was Luna that arrived first, accompanied by a series of murmurs. Harry smiled at his brother, who was watching the younger girl walking his way; he had to admit, Luna cleaned up nicely as well. The girl looked nothing like she usually did; she was nervous, granted, but she had lost the far of look, leaving in its wake a beautiful girl. Her hair was done up elegantly in a bun, a few blonde curls hanging around her face. She was clad in pale blue, a long dress robe that flown around her as she descended the stairs.

"You look beautiful, Luna." Neville managed to say, after making the effort of picking up his jaw from the ground. That seemed to be the general agreement too, Harry though happily as he winked towards his brother, bowing slightly to Luna who blushed pink, as the two walked to stand by next to the rest of the couples already gathered by the entrance. Many openly questioned if she was indeed Luna Lovegood but neither the girl in question, nor Neville paid heed to them. Harry smiled encouragingly at his brother and then apologetically towards Draco.

The blond Slytherin had just walked into the room, Pancy chatting away towards his general direction as he smiled a frozen and utterly fake smile at her. The Malfoy heir rolled his eyes towards Harry, mouthing a quick 'help me!', before joining the couples by the doors. It was a collective gasp that informed him of Fleur's arrival; she was, without a single doubt, beautiful.

Her long, silver hair hang in thick curls around her face, catching the candlelight while she seemingly glided down the stairs and towards Harry in robes of silver and dark blue. Her eyes lit up when Harry smiled at her and she gladly took his offered hand.

"You have me dumbfounded, Miss Delacour." Harry stated, walking towards the doors.

"How so, 'Arry?" Fleur asked, smiling softly at her partner for the night.

"Right when I thought you couldn't possibly look more beautiful, you go and do this." The teen said, shaking his head in pretend exasperation.

"You look quite 'andsome yourself, 'Arry." Fleur offered, blushing slightly at the praise. Counting the barely there traces of pink on her fac personal victory, Harry managed to smile brightly as professor McGonagall called them, Adrian and Victor to the front. He bowed slightly towards Krum and Hermione -Ron was seething at the corner, making Padma glare at him in turn- smiled encouragingly towards Adrian who had gotten paler than a ghost and walked through the double doors, smiling still.

"You do remember 'ow to do this, non?" Fleur asked, challenge clear in her tone.

"The dragon didn't manage to hit me on the head, thank Merlin!" Harry said, placing an arm firmly around Fleur's waist as she laughed. And when the music started, he went out to prove just that. The dance wasn't too fast and Harry led Fleur around the room, circling gently through the song. Neither spoke during that first dance but anybody could clearly see they were enjoying themselves, swirling with grace towards the end of the waltz. They bowed to each other amidst applause and continued to the next dance, much more relaxed now that more people had joined in on the dance floor.

"You do remember 'ow to dance!" Fleur stated, making Harry chuckle.

"Was there any question on that?" The teen asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Not really." Fleur admitted, as Harry twirled her around carefully. They talked about the decorations as they danced -apparently, as grandly decorated Hogwarts was, it didn't have enchanted ice sculptures to decorate its halls like Beauxbatons did- and they spoke of the tournament as well.

"You must admit, it has been quite interesting so far." Harry said, smirking dryly at the memory of the huge dragon he had been assigned to face only a few weeks ago.

"And it shall get more interesting as we go…:" Fleur muttered, looking slightly nervous, as if she was deliberating something. Finally, after a few silent moments, she chanced a glance towards Madam Maxime before turning towards Harry. "The second task, pour example." Fleur continued. "It's not what I expected." Harry regarded her carefully. Was she trying to ask what he had found out about the second task so far?

"Why would you say that?" He asked, trying not to hint at anything.

"Well," she began, looking slightly bewildered, "that's because, oh, you do know what the second task is, oui?" She asked, looking once more towards the gigantic Headmistress. And like that, Harry realized he had gotten it all backwards; Fleur hadn't tried to find out what he knew about the task to help herself; she was trying to find out what he knew, so she could help. Warmed at the gesture, Harry smiled and explained;

"I would rather it did not happen at such a weather," said he, making Fleur sigh in relief, "and on a more solid ground, but, other than that, it comes as no surprise after the dragon!" With that, Fleur could only agree.

The remainder of the night passed pleasantly for most; Adrian and on were still sulking, Karkaroff seemed at the edge of his seat, rubbing his left arm continuously while Percy Weasley bragged on about how he was deemed important enough to replace Mr. Crouch while he was indisposed. Other than that, Harry had danced, laughed, swapped stories with Fleur and even talking a bit to Luna who -once forgetting that she was supposed to act as if the people around her didn't exist while creatures Harry had never heard of did- turned out to be a nice conversationalist. The girl had blushed every two minutes but Neville's smiling and supportive attitude had her opening up just a little to us all after a few hours.

After the Headmaster's story about a mysterious room that only appeared either when the moon was waning or when the one searching for it in the middle of the night had a painfully full bladder, Harry deemed it imperative to take Fleur for a walk out at the grounds; the part of the gardens right in front of the Great Hall had been transformed into a small maze and the two champions walked around, hand in hand. They had almost reached the center of the maze when a few clouds shifted with wind and the light of the full moon bathed both of them in silver. The way he saw it, Harry felt it was high time he showcased some initiative.

He kissed Fleur right there, hands finding their way around her waist as hers travelled around his neck and into his hair. The girl hummed appreciatively when they pulled back for some much needed air, a soft smile on her lips.

"I figured it was my turn." Harry said as Fleur's smile widened, her eyes peering at him under long lashes.

"Agreed." She said, and returned the kiss, both their minds travelling back to another dance, a different castle, at a warm summer's night.

 


	60. Cold Waters

As it turned out, there were professors patrolling the grounds during the ball; the moment Harry caught his father's voice conversing with professor Flitwick, he opted to spare the potions master the emotional scarring and led Fleur back into the Great Hall. He looked around for Draco and Neville and failed to hold back a snort as he caught sight of a group of four by the drinks' table. The green eyed teen pointed to his two friends and motioned Fleur to walk with him towards the unfolding scene. The Beauxbatons' champion nodded and followed, her curiosity piqued as she observed two girls she had never met before converse; the blond one seemed to be talking calmly while the dark haired one appeared to be getting more and more annoyed as the seconds ticked by.

"And then, of course, father said we should visit the northern plains of Russia to investigate further." Harry heard Luna telling Pansy. "Siberia is supposed to be very interesting in summertime. Still rather chilly, from what I understand, but…"

" _Enough_!" Pansy exclaimed, causing a few heads to turn her way while she addressed Draco. "We're leaving!" She ordered. The blond Slytherin simply cocked an eyebrow, his face otherwise expressionless.

"I'm quite interested in these…"

"Siberian, two-headed salamanders." Neville supplied.

"Yes, them." Draco said, nodding to his friend in agreement. "I think I'll stick around a bit longer. If you want to, however, you can go sit…" He never got to finish his sentence as Pansy harrumphed, turned around and stomped her way through the crowd and towards the other side of the room, hands balled in fists.

"Oh dear, she doesn't seem that interested in Siberian, two-headed salamanders!" Luna exclaimed, smiling softly while Draco and Neville started laughing in earnest, uncaring of the confused glances they received.

"And that took care of her." Harry said, grinning widely as he approached his friends.

"I suppose, you wanted 'er to go?" Fleur asked, looking at Draco who seemed quite the opposite of concerned with his date walking out on him.

"That was the main idea, yes." Draco agreed, whipping a few errant tears from his face, chuckling still.

"So, Luna," Harry began turning to the serene looking Ravenclaw, "what are these salamanders exactly?" Four interested pairs of eyes locked on the younger girl.

"You know, Harry," she said, her own smile widening, "I have no idea." The three boys looked at each other in confusion.

"You made them up?" Neville asked, traces of awe clear in his voice.

"Why, yes, I did." Luna stated, this time joining the three boys and Fleur in laughing her heart out.

"Pure, unadulterated genius!" Neville proclaimed, smiling brightly at Luna who blushed at the praise. The remainder of the ball proved to be quite amusing for most. With the notable exception, of course, being one Ron Weasley. The red head had been already angry with Hermione for going to the ball with Krum and had spent the majority of the dance brooding away, glaring at everyone who dared have a good time. And then of course, just after the ball was over, at the stairs to Gryffindor tower, he had gone and yelled at Hermione about how Krum was the enemy and even talking to him was essentially betraying Gryffindor.

"I can't believe his nerve." Neville muttered as Hermione left, a hand over her mouth in a vain effort to muffle her sobs, but not before reminding Ron that, if he had wanted them to go to the ball together, he could have very well asked her in the first place and not only when he couldn't find another date.

"I think we should tell his sister." Harry stated, a death glare trained on Ron who, not having expected -or even considered- Hermione would be so affected by what he had said, had opted on hiding in the boys' dormitory.

"Ginny?" Neville asked, confused by his brother's suggestion. Harry nodded emphatically.

"You saw her last week; she can be very intimidating and I'm pretty sure her brothers are secretly terrified of her." The green eyed wizard elaborated; it was Neville's turn to nod in accordance.

"Maybe she reminds them of Mrs. Weasley when angered; I've heard she's a force to be reckoned with."

"Mrs. Weasley?" Harry thought of the Weasley matriarch then, with her usually kind and open face and her rotund figure. He too had heard the stories of her temper -Sirius had been eager to narrate how fully trained aurors feared her, neither including nor excluding himself from said aurors- but, as he recalled Ginny's image from last week, he couldn't quite see the likeness between the two Weasley women. Maybe it was in their posture, he imagined, replaying the scene in his head; Ginny with her hands crossed in front of her chest, glaring at her much taller brother. As he had already said, strangely intimidating. Yes, he figured and dismissed the thought; it had to be the posture.

"Well, I don't know about you," Neville said, looking towards the stairs to the dormitory, "but I'm dead tired. I'm going to bed."

"Say no more." Harry offered, moving towards the staircase himself.

It was only after he had already slipped under the covers that he realized he wasn't sleepy yet. His thoughts travelled to Fleur and their relationship, whatever it was. How did one define a relationship with a girl, he wondered. He knew he liked her and he was fairly certain she liked him back but was that it? Where they dating now? Fleur hadn't said anything for or against such a notion. But was that a good or a bad sign? Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly;  _women_. He had a feeling that, as he grew older, he would only become increasingly confused on the subject of relationships in general. Sighing once and coming to terms with the fact that sleep would elude him for a little longer, he wracked his brains for something to do till he was sleepy once more.

Neville had already fallen asleep, so there went that. His eyes fell on his trunk then and he remembered the pile of books that Minnie had brought in later that day. Maybe he could get a head start with reading them? Seeing as sleep was still not an option, he rose from his bed and tiptoed to his trunk, opening it as silently as he could. He pulled out two of the books in random and returned to settle himself beneath the covers. Ever mindful of his classmates, he closed the curtains of his canopy bed before picking up his wand.

" _Natantis Luminaria!_ " He muttered and tiny spots of light -no larger than fireflies in size- flew from his wand, floating around and over his head like a luminous cloud or a miniature constellation, emanating a soft, golden light. Now able to see well enough to read, he picked up the first and smaller book, green eyes skimming over the title.  _The Relations between Wizards and the Water-Dwellers_ , the cover read in a half faded out cursive hand. Shrugging once, Harry cracked the book open in the first page and started reading.

The book didn't seem much relevant to what he had in mind, the wizard thought. It dealt more with the politics and interracial relations between the wizardkind and merepeople that, interesting as they surprisingly were, didn't much help with his current predicament. Harry eyed the second book, one that supposedly dealt with underwater creatures and their survival techniques, in contemplation. Still, the book in his hand was kind of interesting and he could always continue with his research come morning when he would have his brother's and Draco's aid. Happy with his decision, he carried on with the book currently in his hands, thinking that, even if it was outdated and written in an archaic language that would be difficult for most students to grasp, it had so far proven ten times more interesting than any lesson of History of Magic Mr. Binns had to offer.

It spoke of ancient times -ancient even for the writer of this book in the early fourteenth century- and outdated practices and customs between wizards and other magical folk. Harry was thinking of asking Professor McGonagall for any more relevant books he could read on his spare time - _what_  spare time? His brain mocked- at the first Ancient Studies lesson after holidays when he turned the page; and then he saw it.

It was perfectly understandable why he would stare at the page in front of him completely gob-smacked for ten whole minutes, Harry supposed, trying to restart his brain. It was only a few verses, eight lines to be specific, in a language forgotten, an alphabet ancient. And he had been searching for something like it for years. To find it now, in the least expected place was nothing but a miracle. Translating the lines in front of him in a haste only solidified his initial reaction.

"Definitely a miracle!" He muttered, voice thick with excitement and shock. He placed the book down on his bed carefully and scrambled around in search of his notebook and Ancient Runes dictionary. No rest for the wicked, Harry thought as he re-checked every single word he had translated already, making sure he hadn't missed any hidden meaning. And definitely no sleep for me tonight, he added, his grin wide and completely uncaring for how tired he would be come next morning.

As it turned out, Harry defied his won expectations and did actually sleep that night. Granted, it was only for two short hours, his eyes snapping open with the first rays of light as he jumped from his bed, practically running towards the bathroom to shower. He got dressed in a hurry, throwing on the first items of clothing in his reach and grabbing his notes and the -now treasured- book from his bed to reverently place them inside his trunk for just a little longer, rushed towards the Great Hall, barely stopping to jot down a quick note to take with him. His mind only barely noted it was Christmas morning as he turned towards the kitchens; he would have no time for breakfast this morning, but that didn't mean he would subject Draco and Neville in the same treatment.

"Can we help you, sir?" A kind, female house elf said, looking a bit startled with a wizard appearing that early in the kitchens, especially on Christmas morning.

"I believe you could!" Harry exclaimed. "First of all, Happy Christmas!" The green eyed wizard wished the house elves all around -that were currently blushing in all possible shades of the colour red- before carrying on. "I was wondering if you could send up a tray of coffee for two and some breakfast up in the Gryffindor tower; I have some very important coursework to do and I would hate for a friend of mine that's offered to help to miss breakfast today from all days!" The elves nodded vigorously, both passionate about the importance of breakfast -Merlin knew how Minnie had preached it to both Harry and Severus and the elf could glare something fierce- and about helping out two students who needed assistance.

"Of course, sir." The same elf, that seemed to be in charge of the kitchens' staff, assured him. "Would that be all?"

"Not quite." Harry admitted, pulling out the parchment he had grabbed from the dormitory. "Could you send this to Draco Malfoy in Slytherin along with some breakfast? I hope I'm not inconveniencing you." He added, thinking of all the work the elves would have on Christmas day.

"Of course not!" The elf protested, taking the offered note. "We are happy to do our job, sir!" Harry smiled at the affronted elf and bowed slightly thanking the elves around him and wishing them a happy Christmas once more before darting out the kitchens and back to Gryffindor tower. He spent only a few seconds catching his breath before reaching under his bed and collecting the presents that lay there. He whistled to himself as he placed them at the end of the beds of their soon-to-be-owners before smirking mischievously and jumping on Neville's bed, waking up his brother a tad abruptly.

"What the…" Neville muttered, jumping up startled, his hand making for his wand.

"Happy Christmas, Nev!" Harry exclaimed, his loud voice waking up some of the other occupants of the room.

"Harry?" Neville asked, squinting at his brother before rubbing his eyes open. "Happy Christmas to you too." He wished back, before regarding the raven haired teen suspiciously. "Even for Christmas morning, you're quite chipper." He noted, eyes narrowing as his brother's smirk widened.

"Yeah, mate." Ron agreed groggily as he stretched on his bed. "Isn't your twin's job to annoy everybody every Chris'mas?"

"I'm a rebel." Harry threw back, waving dismissively at Ron who simply shrugged and dove for the presents at the bottom of his bed. "And I couldn't sleep last night," he added softly so only Neville could hear, "so I did some reading. You know, on the books Minnie dropped over?"

"You did?" Neville asked, a grin of his own appearing as his mind caught up with what his brother was probably saying. "Anything interesting?"

"I ordered breakfast to be delivered here." Harry said instead of a direct answer, pointing at the silver tray bursting with food on top of his bed. "And I sent for Draco too; he'll meet us outside of the library in half an hour; enough time to go through our presents, I'd presume."

"Something very interesting then!" Neville exclaimed, rising up from bed swiftly, making a beeline for the bathroom.

"Great Merlin!" Adrian exclaimed, pulling out a long box from the bottom of the small mountain of presents he had accumulated. He read the card hastily, his hands shaking as he stared at his twin in disbelief. "You didn't!" He muttered, tearing the wrapping paper to shreds, eyes wide.

"Why shouldn't I?" Harry questioned, smiling brightly. He had given a Firebolt to Neville already, last summer after he had informed him of his status as the broomstick's creator after all; with everything that had happened he had completely neglected giving one to his twin -he had berated himself over and over for it too until he reasoned it would make a great Christmas present.

"A Firebolt." Seamus uttered, still not used to seeing the most sought after broomstick currently in production up close. Harry chuckled at the sight; it was quite funny -let alone ego-boosting- when one of his classmates caught sight of his new Firebolt and it seemed that the one he had gifted Adrian would get the same treatment as well.

"Well, considering I'm the one designing those," Harry said, rubbing the back of his head shyly, "I should have given you one  _ages_  ago. I'm just horrible that way." He admitted. "Anyway, Happy Christmas, Adrian  _ooof_!" All air left his lungs as his twin saw fit to tackle him -it was supposed to be a hug, Harry imagined- his new broomstick still in his hands as he threw them around his twin.

"Thanks, Harry! Best Christmas present  _ever_!" He exclaimed as Harry returned the hug, a small smile on his face. He had missed this side of his twin. Neville, who had just emerged from the bathroom, freshly showered and dressed, smiled widely at he scene he had just walked into. He had dearly hoped Adrian would stop treating his twin as he had. Neville was far from unobservant and he knew his brother; the attitude his parents showed didn't affect him half as much as his twin's behavior. He wished with all his heart that Adrian would realize what he was doing before it was too late to fix things.

"Don't mention it, Adrian." Harry said smiling as he extracted himself from his twin's grip. He patted Adrian on the shoulder once more before turning to his own pile of presents; what stroke him as odd was an envelope on top of them, written clearly in professor McGonagall's precise handwriting. Confused, he picked it up first, wondering what could be so important the Transfigurations teacher would have to tell him on Christmas morning.

_Mr. Potter,_

_I would like to inform you that, in light of the multitude of presents you have received from various sources, the house elves have been instructed to only leave those of your friends and family in your room. When you feel ready to retrieve the remaining gifts, please contact me. Happy Christmas. Sincerely,_

_Professor Minerva McGonagall,_

_Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School for_

_Witchcraft and Wizardry._

"Aha." Harry muttered, still trying to absorb what he had just written. Who in the world would have sent him a present outside his family and friends? Neville, who had been reading the letter over his shoulder, burst out laughing, holding his sides as he wheezed, trying to breathe. Tears were rolling down his face as he regarded his brother's utterly confused look.

"Great Merlin!" He exclaimed, laughing anew, not elaborating any further.

"What happened?" Ron asked around a mouthful of cake his mother had sent him.

"What was in that letter?" Dean asked, correctly linking Neville's reaction to whatever it was he had read.

"I have no idea, really." Harry said as Neville, raised a hand to signal them to stop speaking as he breathed in deeply and steadied himself.

"McGonagall had to inform Harry that his fans send him some presents she thought prudent not to forward." Harry's jaw hit the floor along with the rest of his classmates.

" _Fans_?" He asked incredulously, rereading the letter. He could feel a blush creeping on his face as he did, so he swiftly folded the letter and threw it on his bed as if it had burned him.

"I would check every single chocolate received for love potions, were I in your place, Harry." Neville admonished, trying to appear serious as he advised his brother, the teasing glint in his eyes somehow marring the result.

"For Merlin's sake…" Harry muttered tiredly;  _fans_. There was something he had never considered. He shook his head, set on not thinking about anything other than the reason why he had been so elated this morning; he would deal with said multitude of presents later, he decided.

"You have fans?" Ron asked dumbfounded.

"Can we  _not_  talk about it?" Harry pleaded, returning to the gifts of the people he actually knew. Considering how he had only ever received presents from his family, complete strangers thinking of him during the holidays and sending him presents was slightly overwhelming.

"Let's." Neville agreed, noting his brother's discomfort. And they proceeded to unwrap their gifts; Neville's gift came with instructions to open it carefully and react with caution in front of the rest of their classmates. Harry cocked an eyebrow in confusion until he unwrapped the present. It was a small book, but calling it just that would do it great disservice;  _Alchemic Charms_  it was titled and, like most of the books on alchemy, it was handwritten and Harry knew, without even needing to open it, that it would consist of observations made by an alchemist, that would be unique to this book and this book alone. For any alchemist, this book was worth more than all the gold they could produce.

"Nev, I…"

"It's nothing, Harry." His brother said, coming closer to hug the green eyed teen. "It was in my Gran's library and has been there since Merlin knows when; she tends to buy old books in bulk. She insists that a rich library is a sign of a respectable family, even if she has never even laid eyes on some of the books. And I have no use of this one."

"You have no idea what this book is worth." Harry whispered, trying to downplay his reaction since Adrian was already regarding him with some confusion.

"No, I don't." Neville conceded with a smile. "And neither do most wizards; this book is only worth something in the right hands. That means yours." And he punched his brother on the shoulder once as if to punctuate there was nothing more that needed to be said on the subject. Harry nodded and passed Neville his gift.

"Are those…" The brown eyed boy asked, looking at the small seeds in the glass box that was in his present.

"Flos pruinae?" Harry finished his brother's sentence for him. "Yes. Sev has some in his garden but the seeds can only be collected in December. I asked Minnie to gather them last month."

"Thank you!" The boy exclaimed; the plant and flowers these seeds produced where extremely rare and precious in potions making. The original plant had been a part of Perenelle's collection and Harry was glad knowing there couldn't be more capable hands for those seeds than his brother's. Turning back to the rest of his gifts, Harry was surprised to find one wrapped in green paper and tied with a golden bow. Neville seemed to have one too and the green eyed wizard smiled, knowing fully well whom they had come from. Harry opened his gift first, revealing a finely crafted crystal orb, cradled in blackened silver; it stood on three vine shaped, short legs and Harry, having an idea of what it was, tapped it once with his wand. The hollow orb suddenly filled with the dark blue of the night sky, a crescent moon shining bright in the centre.

"A moon's watch!" Neville exclaimed, looking at Harry's gift. Harry smiled, reading Draco's note; the Slytherin knew how important the moon could prove in potions making and as such, had ordered the special watch for him. It would depict the phases of the moon accurately, showcasing even the slightest change, something quite crucial for the more advance potions. To Neville, Draco had gotten a complete set of gardening tools, some so specific that Harry had never even heard of. His brother however had and Harry was fairly certain Draco was in for a hug.

The rest of their presents were opened in haste as the two boys ate breakfast; Harry had swiftly explained that he had had an inspiration considering the tournament last night and he wanted to check it out.

"The next task isn't till February!" Adrian complained while Harry shook his head.

"I like to be prepared, you know that Adrian." He simply stated, finishing up his coffee. Neville eyed him wearily, knowing how his brother could get once exited and wondering on the prudence of consuming caffeine on top of that; he hoped Harry wouldn't be bouncing up and down the hallways.

"Suit yourself." Adrian said finally. "We'll be by the lake should you and Neville wish to join us later." His twin had carefully omitted Draco from the invitation, of course. Sighing, Harry retrieved the book and his notes from his trunk and waived his classmates goodbye as he and Neville left the room.

"It just occurred to me," Neville began as they walked out the Common Room, "don't you usually spend Christmas mornings with Severus?"

"I do." Harry agreed. "But Sev got roped into some project of Dumbledore's. He made me promise not to go snooping around for my present and go to his office after lunch." The Headmaster had asked Severus' help without much explaining for what or why it was necessary to be on Christmas day. The potions master had been understandably curious and even more so when he realized that, whatever the matter was, Dumbledore thought it to be of great importance. As such, he had agreed to help and had promised to tell Harry exactly what the secrecy was all about in the afternoon.

"Oh." Neville said, he too confused on why such project should happen on Christmas day. "Anyway, any chances you'll tell me what you stumbled upon that got you all jittery?"

"Patience, brother." Harry advised, smirking slightly. "Let's pick up Draco first." As it turned out, they didn't have to search far; a slightly out of breath blond Slytherin was waiting for them in the Great Hall.

"A Firebolt Seeker's Edition?" He asked Harry in form of greeting.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Draco." Harry said cheerfully.

"And you," Draco said, pointing towards Neville, "you got me a  _sword_?"

"You did?" Harry asked, looking at his brother in confusion.

"Well," Neville explained calmly, "you gave me one too last summer and I figured Draco here should have one of his own now." Then he turned towards the Slytherin. "And, in case you were wondering, that means you're kind of stuck with us now. And we're very stubborn, the pair of us."

"Oh, I see." Harry said, smiling brightly at his brother; he had no idea how Neville did it, but he always knew just what to say to make somebody feel comfortable and included. And since he completely agreed with the sentiment, he turned towards the perpetually dumbfounded Draco and added; "Welcome aboard, Draco."

"You…" The Slytherin seemed at loss of words as he turned his eyes from Harry to Neville and back again. "I…  _Thank you_!" He exclaimed and threw his arms around them both, not caring about who was watching. "And Merry Christmas to you too." He added as an afterthought, chuckling even as his eyes misted over.

"Don't mention it, mate. And thanks for the gift!" Neville stated, throwing an arm over the Slytherin's shoulder.

"Thank you for the gift too, Draco." Harry said smiling at the two teens.

"You gave me a Firbolt, Harry." The Slytherin reminded him, grinning widely.

"It's not like it cost me anything; I'm the one making those, even if everyone seems to forget!"

"Your fans remember." Neville teased.

"Fans?" Draco asked, a sly look on his face. "Do tell, Mr. Longbottom!"

"Goblins' gold, you two!" Harry exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, the picture of utter exasperation as he started walking towards the library. "Aren't you interested in what I came up with last night?"

"Of course we are." Draco said, still smirking. "But it's a good ten minutes walk till we reach the library." And he and Neville chuckled at Harry's expense as the raven haired teen turned his back on them and walked away, hiding a fond smile from their view.

The three teens walked through the corridors smiling and chatting, wishing Merry Christmas to every student or professor they came across -and to some portraits too- as they made their way towards the library. They entered the completely empty room, startling Madam Pince who regarded them with wide eyes as they passed her by, wishing a happy Christmas to her too.

"She probably thinks us completely mental." Draco said smiling widely, as if utterly satisfied with how the librarian might be questioning their mental health.

"Oh well!" Neville sated shrugging.

"And now I have to deal with two of you. Brilliant." Harry said, smiling too, as he plopped down on their usual table.

"You love us, really." His brother stated, sitting across the table and next to Draco; the Slytherin simply smiled wider and sat down, waiting for Harry to explain why he had thought it necessary to send a house elf to wake him up on Christmas morning.

"Last night when we returned from the ball, I found myself unable to sleep, so I decided to get a head start with the books Minnie brought over yesterday. And I ran into this." He pushed the book in question towards them, opening it on the page that had him mesmerized since last night.

"These are runes, aren't they?" Draco asked, looking at the page Harry had pointed out.

"Yes." Neville agreed, beginning to translate the text carefully. His eyed widened with every line. "Oh come on!" He exclaimed, looking at his brother in complete astonishment. "That's impossible! Isn't it? It can't actually work!"

"I've searched for one for years, Nev. And now look! It's right here!" Harry said, pointing at the eight lines on the yellowed parchment.

"A poem?" Draco asked, still unable to understand what the fuss was all about.

"No, Draco." Harry said, eyes twinkling madly with excitement. "A ritual."

"A  _ritual_?" Draco exclaimed, his voice a bit higher than usual. "As in blood magic? Those were rare even when they were actually in practice!" He looked at the eight lines with renewed interest, as if afraid they'd disappear or rather fly from the page and take a life of their own.

"It's quite possible the writer didn't even understand what he wrote down." Harry supplied, his attention back to the book. "Listen what he wrote beneath it;  _'This blessing is an example of those given amongst the magic folks in the olden times, when druids roamed the land and the borders between what a wizard is and isn't were not yet defined. May it guide thee, wizards, who have forgotten the ties that bind you to all that is magic and what being a creature of magic means.'_  See?"

"He thought it a blessing, you said?" Draco asked. "I don't understand."

"Blessings," Harry explained, "were actually rituals between the different magical folks. Before the centaurs and the merepeople declared themselves 'creatures' they were simply considered races of the magical folk. Those blessings were rites created from druids of the time to better understand how the other races worked and to show their respect. This specific ritual," the green eyed teen continued, "is supposed to showcase that respect exactly. It's a plea, to magic, to grant the caster an insight to the merepeople's race, to make the caster one of the race he wished to understand. Should magic deem him worthy of the knowledge he asked, seeing that he bares no ill will towards the race he begs entrance into, he is allowed that insight for as long as he holds on to the ritual."

"What insight?" Draco asked, his head swimming. "I don't get it."

"This ritual asks magic to grant the caster the form of one of the merepeople, Draco!" Harry exclaimed, his grin shining brightly. "As long as the caster holds on to it, supposing that it works, it makes one a part of the merepeople. Do you understand what this is?"

"A major archeological discovery." Draco stated, chuckling openly, not even caring if he evoked the wrath of Madam Pince at this point. "I can't believe you just stumbled into it!"

"Sev always said I tend to attract ancient magic." Harry admitted, smiling brightly.

"And how can you tell if it works?" Neville asked, shaking his head in resigned acceptance.

"I'll have to try it out, of course. And that's the tricky part." Harry said, looking down at the page once more. "You see, the writer thought it just a poem, so he hasn't written down any instructions on how to actually execute it." His mind flew back to the only other two rituals he knew, the one he had used in his emancipation and the other he had used in the creation of the Philosopher's Stone. "It's going to be trial and error from here on."

"You think it might be dangerous?" Draco asked concerned, sharing a glance with Neville; the two teens knew well enough that, dangerous or not, Harry would attempt it.

"No." Harry assured them. "A ritual either works or doesn't. That's probably why the writher though nothing of it; from what I gather he was a diplomat of some sort and he didn't know how to execute it. To him, and us, unless I figure out how to cast it, it's nothing but a poem." The three teens stared at the page for a little longer, all trying to come up with ideas on how the ritual could be made to work.

It was only after they had realized they had almost missed lunch that they decided to leave the library, still puzzling over the ritual. Harry ate hastily before making his way towards Severus' office, still unable to make heads or tails from the ritual. There weren't any specific instructions on how rituals were cast. It was just a matter of patience, he figured, and time, of which he didn't have much of.

He knocked on his father's office door, present in hand and sighed, trying to clear his head. He would have to make it work, it was as simple as that; since when did he back down from a challenge anyway?

"Come in!" Sounded his father's voice from behind the door.

"Merry Christmas, Dad!" Harry exclaimed and ran to hug his father the moment the door was closed behind him.

"Merry Christmas, Harry!" Severus wished back, returning the hug, smiling brightly at his son's exuberance. "Wait right there!" He ordered, and walked to his desk to retrieve his son's present. "There you go!" The potions master said, giving the wrapped present to Harry who returned the gesture.

"Thanks, Dad!" The teen said, smiling widely.

"Open it first!" And Harry did, his smile never faltering. It was a small box, and once opening he found a ring; it was a man's ring, that was for sure, silver and shaped like the head of a wolf. It wasn't too large and seemed to fit Harry perfectly. "It's a rite of passage." Severus explained. "In the old magic families, when a boy reached adulthood, his father would give him a ring that acknowledged him as an adult. I ordered this when you were seven." The potions master admitted, dark eyes glistening. "I was supposed to give it to you on Christmas after you turned seventeen but…"

"Thank you, Dad." Harry said and slipped the ring on his right index finger, before hugging his father once again, unable to hold back a few tears.

"Don't mention it, Harry." The potions master said, kissing the top of his son's head. "You're my son." He added, as if that explained everything he had ever done and would do in the future for the boy in his arms. And honestly, it did.

"Well, it's your turn." Harry stated, whipping his tears and pointing to the Severus' present that still lay wrapped on his desk. "Open it!" The potions master complied gladly and opened the parcel in which Harry had placed his own gift. It was a box, its corners rounded and finely detailed; delicate lines of silver and gold created a flame pattern on the black material that most of the box was made of. "It's black onyx." Harry explained. "I made it."

"It's beautiful." Severus stated, his eyes wide. He knew what his son was capable of, but it never failed to surprise him every time something like this came out of his forge.

"You haven't even opened it yet." Harry stated, chuckling once at the bewildered look on his father's face. Severus, on his part, smiled and placed the box down on his desk so that he could do as instructed. It was a lucky happenstance that he had opted on putting the box down first too since what he found inside was probably the last thing he had expected. A small bundle of flickering golden and ruby flames swirled inside the box, producing no trace of smoke yet warming the room almost immediately.

"Gubraithian fire?" Severus asked, looking at his son perplexed. He should accept it as a fact, he thought as he looked at the everlasting flame his son had given him, that Harry would always try to outdo his last gift, if he could.

"It's still impossible for me to make anything more than that and even this little thing is incredibly taxing." Harry admitted. "But it's something."

"I feel as if I have lived this moment already," Severus said, smiling widely as he enveloped his son in his arms, "but this is amazing!"

"Our aim's to please." Harry quipped as Severus rolled his eyes before walking back to his desk to place the flames in the middle, not placing the lid on just yet. "So, what did Dumbledore want your help with?" Severus' face lost most traces of joy as he peered into the flames still.

"He wanted me to drop by the Ministry; Fudge was holding a fundraiser he had invited me to and he wanted me to use that as pretense to ask around about a Ministry employee. Her name is Bertha Jorkins. She went missing last summer and hasn't returned since. She was supposed to visit an aunt of hers in Albania." The potions master explained.

"Albania, you said?" Harry asked, sitting down on an armchair by Severus' desk. He had known for quite some time that Dumbledore suspected Voldemort to be hiding somewhere in the Albanian forests.

"What you heard." Severus confirmed his suspicions. "Albus seems to think that Miss Jorkins stumbled onto something she shouldn't have and paid for her bad fortune dearly."

"So he believes that Voldemort is on the move? Kidnapping and quite possibly murdering a Ministry official is quite a bold move for someone who's been playing dead for the past thirteen years."

"But that's just it!" Severus exclaimed, running his fingers through his hair in exasperation. "Bertha Jorkins, prior to her disappearance, worked for the Department of Magical Games and Sports. She had knowledge of the Triwizard Tournament and the tasks that would be set for the champions."

"And we know Adrian was entered in the tournament for a reason." Harry said, hiding his face in his hands.

"It's a long string of assumptions; Bertha Jorkins might have eloped and living happily in Albania for all we know." Severus suggested, his tone clearly stated he didn't believe his own words one bit.

"But you don't believe that." Harry stated.

"No, I do not." Severus offered. "But I lack the information to reach any form of conclusion. I believe that Voldemort had something to do with her disappearance; that still does nothing to help solving the riddle of how Adrian's name was entered in the tournament. It just cements our suspicions that Voldemort masterminded it."

"Which is a lovely thought, really." Harry grumbled.

"Anyway, as I was saying, not enough information to make anything out of it yet." The potions master stated, sighing dejectedly.

"I hate being one step back every single time." Harry said.

"When Voldemort is concerned, we have very little choice on the matter." Severus reasoned. Then he proceeded trying to take his son's mind off the subject of Voldemort and back to the tournament, enquiring of his plans as of yet.

"I'm promising you'll probably be surprised." Harry offered cryptically. Chances where that he would be surprised himself should he make the ritual work.

"Aren't I always?" Severus asked, turning his eyes heavenwards. Harry smiled at his father's antics and from the on the conversation flown gently, the shadow the Dark Lord had cast still present in the room but pushed back in the corner by the light of an enchanted flame.

Night time found Harry under his invisibility cloak and in search for a place to work out the ritual shaped riddle that had landed in his arms. With the Marauders' Map at hand, he walked around the corridors trying to come up with the ideal room; he had figured that was something he would have to do on his own as, no matter if he managed to cast the ritual or not, he would probably have to spend some quality time submerged in water while trying. And since he predicted the dress code would be extremely casual, he had opted to tackle that one in private. After some consideration, he decided the best place to be while trying to cast the specific ritual would be the Prefects' bathroom; if the rumors had even the slightest speck of truth after all, the bathtubs in there would be akin to small swimming pools and exactly what Harry needed.

For once, the rumors did hold some truth, Harry thought ten minutes later, as he sunk into the warm water. At that moment, not being able to cast the ritual didn't seem that bad if he would get some nights spent thus out of it. Sighing gently as he relaxed into the water, Harry pulled the parchment on which he had carefully copied the ritual, unwilling to bring a six hundred years old book anywhere near water. He was pretty certain he had learned the whole ritual by heart at that point, but he knew the wording had to be exact.

Bealucræft fram sé dréor

Híere mín sócn

Ágife mec hwa þu ágifedest

æt úre ríceiu holmege

In tægel and sciell

Ágife mec orpunge und sæ

Líefe mec béon geselda

úre ríceiu holmege

Harry waited and waited, but nothing happened. Not surprising, he thought. It wasn't as if he had expected to sprout a tail and gills the first time around, even if he had to admit it would be nice to have something come that easy for once. Thus passed the next four hours and four hours every night for the next week and a half. It was a very disgruntled Hogwarts' champion that sat next to his friends in the library on the first week of school after the holidays; he had spent New Years eve in Hogwarts with his parents flooing in for a few hours on the first of January; from what he could tell, Dumbledore had them looking for any more clues as to what Voldemort may have in mind; his most fear inducing conclusion, one Harry had reached by himself but had wished to not ponder much on, was that the Dark Lord mush have relocated somewhere closer to Adrian for his plan -whatever that may be- to work.

As it were, he had everybody running around chasing their tails while he was hidden somewhere and plotted away, cackling maniacally most likely. According to my imagination, at least, Harry thought to himself as he finished his transfiguration essay and sighed.

"You've been sighing a lot today." Draco observed, sharing a look with Neville. The two teens had been watching Harry getting more and more frustrated as the days went by and where very close to staging an intervention. Harry on his side, sighed once more; he had talked of Voldemort's threat with Neville but not with Draco and not for the reasons he might have done so a few months back. It wasn't that he didn't trust the Slytherin he had realized; it was that by telling him, he would place him in a position where he'd have to pick between his family -mostly his father, from what Severus had explained- and his friends. That was a terrible position to be into, Harry thought and he was afraid -he could hardly believe how afraid he was- of the prospect where Draco would choose his family over him and Neville. It was the obvious choice, Harry knew, but he would rather bottle everything up till he burst than driving Draco away.

"What did you expect, Draco?" Harry asked, letting his head drop on the desk. "I've been visiting the Prefects' bathroom every night for almost two weeks now. I have repeated the ritual over and over and all I've managed was to translate it in a way so it actually rhymes. Oh, and I've discovered I really like the scent of cedar. The house elves must be wondering who's been using all the cedar scented shower gel and shampoo by now!" Neville shot Draco an amused look as the Slytherin tried not to laugh at his friend's rant.

"So, the translation rhymes?" Neville asked, holding back a chuckle at the best of his ability. Instead of answering, Harry cleared his throat and, without raising his head from the desk started reciting;

_Oh magic in my blood_

_Hear my plea_

_Grant me what you've granted_

_To your people of the sea_

_From tail to scale_

_And to underwater breath_

_Let me be one and the same_

_With your people of the sea_

"I mean, you can see why the writer of that book thought it to be a poem, but what am I supposed to do with it?" Harry wondered, looking at the two wizards across the table in utter desperation. Instead of the commiseration he had expected however, he found two blank faces staring back at him.

"That was quite impressive." Draco offered, the corner of his lips twitching.

"Oh, yeah?" Harry asked, eyes narrowing.

"Quite." Neville stated, trying to appease his brother. "And besides, you must always look at the bright side of things."

"Which in this case would be what exactly?" Harry asked, training his glare towards his brother. Neville, who hadn't thought that far ahead, simply stared back, blinking owlishly.

"You smell great?" Draco quipped, before breaking into laughter he tried to muffle with his hands. Neville soon followed and so did Harry, even if he consoled himself in thinking he had fought valiantly to stay cross with the two goofballs facing him.

"It's something." Harry conceded, once he trusted himself enough to open his mouth without breaking into loud laughter. Still, as desperate as the situation seemed, he found himself at the Prefects' bathroom that night too. It had been two hours already and he had completely resigned to his fate, his head on the tiled floor as his body was still submerged in the bathtub. The whole bathroom had to be created and sustained by magic, Harry thought; for one the bathroom was on the fifth floor and yet the pool it had in the place of a bathtub was dug into the floor, the whole room giving out the air of a Turkish hamam, or rather, its western, medieval equivalent. Not that I complain or anything, Harry thought stretching his arms out of the always-warm water and sideways onto the cool floor as he leaned his head further back on the tiles.

"Being a Prefect in Hogwarts has its perks." He mused out loud before sighing once again and wording the ritual, his mind completely devoid of all that had been troubling him for what seemed to be the first time since Christmas. He was so relaxed that he only managed to realize something was different this time around when he felt his legs being pulled together and a rather unpleasant sting behind his ears. He gasped, green eyes snapping open as the ritual took effect.

Harry watched in wonder as the runes the ritual was composed of seemed to float all around him, made out of blue light, swirling and whispering before settling on his skin, then shining a bright silver. The stinging behind his ears intensified and he could both see and feel his legs molding into a single limp that elongated and grew longer, sprouting dark blue scales and a fin. He brought his hands behind his ears only to touch his newly formed gills and letting them fall back down in shock. Then the light subsided and he could see the full extent of his transformation; his sight seemed a bit bleary but it would be hard to miss that tail. Or the membranes between his fingers. As he gasped, he noticed that the air didn't inflate his lungs as it usually did but rather passed through the gills.

"In for a galleon, in for a knut." He muttered and let his body disappear under the water. His eyesight was clear once again, now that he was using it underwater and that boosted his confidence enough to take a tentative breath. He found that he could taste the shower gel in the water -he didn't like the taste of cedar as much as he liked the scent, unfortunately- but, after he got over the weird sensation of inhaling water, he found he didn't much mind it. He could breathe. Underwater. Merlin help me, he thought and practiced moving around, underestimating his strength and almost colliding with the opposite wall.

It took him a ridiculous amount of time to manage to turn properly and stop hitting his head against the walls and still, he was nowhere confident enough to swim long distances. Practice makes perfect, he figured and slowly emerged from the water, breathing air once more. It felt weird to breathe out of water, his gills immediately going dry.

" _My_  gills?" Harry wondered out loud, his voice scratchy. He shook his head and tried to find that string of magic, that single thread that kept the ritual in place. He had felt it set in immediately after the ritual was complete, an invisible line merging his magic and the evocation together. All he had to do was, well, neither cut or snap it, he realized, but simply let it unhook from where it had lodged itself on his magic; the process only lasted a few seconds and suddenly, Harry could see his legs again, coughing up some excess water. And the gills were gone, he realized, smiling slightly, his eyesight back to normal. No membranes either, he noted happily, wiggling his fingers. He chuckled once and stood up to get out of the tub, only to find his legs shaky; he stumbled and fell back into the water.

"Bugger." He muttered, as he moved his legs experimentally, slowly feeling them returning to normal. They certainly felt well enough to skip his way back to the Common Room. He kept his breakthrough secret the next day, barely managing not to spill the beans every time he locked eyes with his brother or Draco. But he wanted to be sure that he could cast the ritual again before he said anything. So, finally, the morning of the second day and with the knowledge that he indeed could cast the ritual at least for two consecutive nights, he smiled at his two friends on their way to double potions.

"What's got you so happy?" Neville asked, looking at his brother as if he was afraid he was seconds away from a mental breakdown.

"The simple knowledge that cedar scented water is an acquired taste and that gills fill itchy when out of water." Harry deadpanned, his smiled widening. The two teens froze in their tracks while Harry carried on, looking at them over his shoulder. "Come on! Sev hates it when students are late for class!"

"Hold it right there!" Draco exclaimed, startling a group of first years that were passing by. "You mean to say, it worked?" He whispered as approached Harry, Neville in tow.

"I have the bumps to prove it!" Harry declared, touching the sore spots on his head tentatively. "I have yet to learn how a tail functions properly." He admitted.

"A tail?" Neville asked. "You actually got a  _tail_."

"Oh yeah." Harry said chuckling. "And one I need to test in open waters. Would you two gentlemen care for a trip to the lake tomorrow night?" He asked, throwing a hand over both their shoulders.

"If you thought I'd miss this…" Draco muttered. "Bloody hell though."

"I second that." Neville offered, before all three started laughing, sporadic bouts of giggles afflicting them even during class. Severus seemed suspicious but refrained from asking the reason for such giddiness, probably afraid of the answer.

The days to till the second task passed swiftly after that; the three boys sneaked out every second night to visit the lake and Harry was now confident that he would be able to not only complete the ritual at any given time, but swim well enough and far enough, holding onto the magic for the hour required. He was also thrilled to discover that it took fifteen seconds for the ritual to be complete, something that gave him enough time to cast it and then jump into the water to get rid of his swim trucks, something that could have proven quite awkward otherwise. He had even ventured a bit deeper into the lake, even if he could see very little during the night.

The notable exception to the, admittedly exciting, routine Harry had settled into was Valentine's day; Harry still had no idea if Fleur considered him her boyfriend but he had ordered her flowers nonetheless. He recalled from their conversations that she liked tulips and the colour yellow, so he took the initiative to order her three dozens of the flowers and have them delivered at Beauxbatons' carriage. Even if no student of Hogwarts had witnessed the delivery, the students of Beauxbatons were happy to spread the news and Harry found himself the object of many a sigh from the female part of Hogwarts' student body. Fleur herself was very pleased with her gift and spent the whole day with Harry, when classes permitted.

Neville had gotten Luna a lovely box of chocolates and a beautiful white orchid after asking Ginny's advice; the redhead had assured him that Luna loved pralines and had gladly informed him of her best friend's favourite flower. Harry had congratulated his brother on his move while Draco did the same, not before teasing both his friends a bit though.

The day of the second task was quite wet, even before it was time to jump into the lake. Harry felt a little less anxious than he had with the dragon, but he supposed that would change the very moment his eyes landed on the lake. Neville and Draco had wished him good luck the night before as the champions where to walk to the Black Lake at the crack of dawn. Severus however, had walked his son all the way to the tents that had been set up for the champions.

"Nervous?" The potions master asked his son.

"Nah!" Harry stated dismissively, sticking to single word answers, afraid that keeping his mouth open any longer than that might cause him to lose last night's dinner.

"Let's go with that." Severus offered, smiling at his son who glared back at him. "You'll do great, Harry. I know you will."

"Thanks, Dad." Harry offered and smiled softly, hugging his father for a few seconds before walking into the tent where, surprisingly, Lily and James waited. They were already talking to Adrian who assured them that, yes, he knew what he was doing and that, no, he didn't need any last minute help.

"So, Harry dear?" A shrill voice asked him from somewhere on his left. "Any comments?" The green eyed wizard turned around and came face to face with the pearly white smile of Rita Skeeter. "You've been hiding from me, naughty boys!" She exclaimed, looking at both father and son. The silence was complete in the tent, all occupants looking at the reporter in obvious confusion.

"Schoolwork, Miss Skeeter, you understand." Severus offered kindly, smiling at the reporter. You fought against the Dark Lord, he reminded himself. Don't run away even if she creeps the daylights out of you; think of Harry.

"Well, dears, how about we…"

"Miss Skeeter!" The jovial voice of Albus Dumbledore interrupted her. "How nice it is to find you here, especially considering how I've banned you from the grounds!" The journalist paled and turned towards Albus, greeting him fleetingly before making herself sparse. Harry and Severus both breathed a sigh of relief, the potions master thanking the Headmaster profusely.

"Think nothing of it, Severus!" Dumbledore stated, walking out of the tent to rejoin the judges, motioning Severus to follow.

"You'll do great." The potions master repeated, leaving the tent. Harry turned around to his parents a small sense of security settling in his chest. If his father thought he'd do fine, a small part of himself that always believed Severus was inherently right about everything, assured him that fine he'd indeed do.

"What was that about?" James asked, pointing towards the entrance to the tent. "Do you know Rita Skeeter from somewhere?"

"She did that interview I gave for  _Witch Weekly_  last summer. Has been bothering me since." In fact, he had sent both him and Severus presents for Christmas which both men had given away immediately after getting rid of the ones laced with love potions.

"How have you been holding up?" Lily asked, clearly worried. "You have worked out what you'll do, right?"

"Oh trust me." Harry stated smirking. "I have!"

"'arry?" Fleur's voice sounded from behind him. Harry turned around to face her, only to be met with a kiss. "I realized I never did wish you luck. So, good luck." She stated and winked, returning to a stern-looking Madame Maxime.

"For the record," Krum said, smiling slightly for the first time since Rita Skeeter had vacated the premises, "I'm not kissing you for good luck, Harry." That seemed to shock his family more than the actual kiss, as both Adrian's and James' jaws hit the floor at the Quidditch player's proclamation.

"No offence, Victor, but let's keep it that way!" Krum chuckled once nodded before Harry turned his attention back to his family.

"You're on a first name basis with Victor Krum?" James asked, still slightly star struck.

"For quite some time now." Harry stated, thinking back on the events of last month; Skeeter had published an article of a supposed love triangle between Adrian, Hermione and Victor. And while Hermione still received some very nasty staff by owl, things could have been much worse both in general and at school, hadn't it been for Harry and, surprisingly, Draco. Harry had written to James and Lily who in turn wrote to  _Witch Weekly_ and threatened to sue, should the magazine not publish a written apology for the allegations. And Draco had surprised Harry and Neville by stating that he'd take care of the few Slytherins that might see the article as an opportunity to slander a Gryffindor and a Muggleborn to boot.

Draco had started taking personal offense when something happened that caused Slytherin House to have an even darker reputation that the one it already had. Thus, he had quite slyly pointed out that, since there had been Slytherin students' names and statements in that article, said students were very close to have their parents sued by the Potter family. Clearly not wanting that, the rumors stopped as suddenly as they had started, especially after Severus gave a fortnight worth of detentions to the few Slytherins who persisted even after Draco's warning. From what Harry had gathered, Millicent Bulstrode was still cleaning cauldrons over that one.

Victor, who had eventually been told of Harry's urging to his parents, had thanked the younger boy personally and the two had been friendlier towards each other since, talking during breaks and such.

"Unbelievable." Adrian muttered, as Ludo Bagman's loud voice sounded from outside, signaling the beginning of the Second Task. James and Lily left to join the crowds, reminding their sons that both they and Sirius with Remus were ready to help should something unfortunate happen.

"That's mighty encouraging, don't you think?" Harry asked his twin in an attempt at levity as they walked out of the tent and towards the wooden platform that had been set up for the champions; it stood five feet over water and right next to the stands. The crowd cheered loudly as the four champions walked out the tent, the cacophony masking Bagman's voice for a second. Harry shook his head slightly at the added cheering when the three male champions had to take of their shirts. He then took out his wand and smirked; he would only use it for a swift spell to keep himself warm -something he had omitted that first night he had dived in the lake and had lived to regret since- before placing it back into the holster he had secured on his arm. Harry vaguely noted that Percy Weasley had taken Crouch's place at the judges' table; Mr. Crouch had failed to appear once again.

"Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle." Bagman said, smiling widely at the four champions. "They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One… two…  _three_!" The whistle echoed shrilly in the cold, still air; the stands erupted with cheers and applause; Harry pointed his wand towards himself and silently cast the spell that would help him fight of the cold at the bottom of the lake before clearing his mind completely, wand put away. He closed his eyes, blocking away all noise from the crowd as he started the ritual. The sudden gasps and the tall-tale prickling behind his ears informed him it had worked and Harry dived into the lake, smiling widely.

He got rid of his swimming trunks just in time for his legs to meld together into the now familiar tail. He cast a swift, silent spell to produce a cord and tie them around his waist, fully aware that he would need them to leave the lake. And, just because he felt like it, he swam upwards and jumped out the water, smirk ever in place, playfully saluting the crowd before diving back into the dark waters. Turning his attention back to the task at hand, Harry swam swiftly towards the centre of the lake; merpeople colonies where always at the deepest point when in lakes, so Harry had decided to swim as far down as possible and then follow a straight line to the centre of the lake.

He passed by all three other champions, waving hastily at them, laughing slightly at their shocked expressions; even Victor, who had seemingly turned the upper side of his body into a shark managed to express his shock through his face, his lower jaw, filled with sharp teeth slightly ajar. Completely focused on his task from that point onwards, Harry made a quick and straight path through the lake, avoiding the patches of the bottom that were overly covered with algae, knowing that they were most likely bustling with grindylows. Hoping Fleur had caught on his subtle warning that the lake had more creatures in it than the great squid last week, he carried on.

Small fish flickered past him like silver darts. Once or twice he thought he saw something larger moving ahead of him, but when he got nearer, he discovered it to be nothing but a large, blackened log, or a dense clump of weed. There was no sign of any settlement however and Harry simply kept going, swimming as fast as he could. The minutes ticked by as the search for whatever it was the merepeople had taken from him continued, still no sign of it appeared on the horizon. And then he heard it; the meresong from the egg, coming from somewhere on his left. Smiling, Harry turned towards the source of the sound.

"An hour long you'll have to look,

And to recover what we took..."

Harry swam faster and soon saw a large rock emerge out of the muddy water ahead. It had paintings of merpeople on it; they were carrying spears and chasing what looked like the giant squid. Harry swam on past the rock, following the mersong.

"...your time's half gone, so tarry not

Lest what you seek stays here to rot..."

That part was new, Harry thought, slightly worried at the last two lines of the song; to  _rot_ , they said? A cluster of crude stone dwellings stained with algae loomed suddenly out of the gloom on all sides. Here and there at the dark windows, Harry saw faces. He vaguely recalled that the merepeople of the lakes in the north were not as fair as their cousins of the sea, the fabled sirens of warmer climates; now he could clearly see what that book meant. Even if he had never laid eyes on other merpeople in his life, he knew those around him weren't exactly the stuff of fairy tales.

The merpeople had grayish skin and long, wild, dark green hair. Their eyes were yellow, as were their broken teeth, and they wore thick ropes of pebbles around their necks. They stared at Harry openly as he passed them by, yellow eyes travelling from his tail to his face and back. Their own tails were silver, Harry noted idly, bowing his head kindly as he passed them by. The merpeople around him looked shocked by his movement but soon returned the gesture, some even daring a smile his way. Harry recalled then that the ritual he had used signified his respect towards their race and wondered if the merpeople of this lake were aware of that fact.

Harry sped on, staring around, and soon the dwellings became more numerous; there were gardens of weed around some of them, and he even saw a pet grindylow tied to a stake outside one door. Merpeople were emerging on all sides now, watching him eagerly, pointing at his tail and gills, talking behind their hands to one another. Some smiled and waved at him, and the green eyed boy returned the gesture; maybe something wholly unexpected could come out of the task after all. Harry sped around a corner and a very strange sight met his eyes.

A whole crowd of merpeople was floating in front of the houses that lined what looked like a mer-version of a village square. A choir of merpeople was singing in the middle, calling the champions toward them, and behind them rose a crude sort of statue; a gigantic merperson hewn from a boulder. Four people were bound tightly to the tail of the stone merperson.

And his brother was tied between Hermione and Ron. There was also a girl who looked no older than eight, whose clouds of silvery hair made Harry feel sure that she was Gabrielle, Fleur's sister. All four of them appeared to be in a very deep sleep. Their heads were lolling onto their shoulders, and fine streams of bubbles kept issuing from their mouths. Harry could swear his heart almost stopped at the sight of Neville in the middle of the lake, before his voice of reason, always sounding like his father, whispered that he had to keep moving and that Dumbledore and the Ministry surely wouldn't let any of the four people in front of him get truly hurt.

Kidnapped by merpeople, placed under an enchanted sleep and submerged into the Black Lake, sure, but not really hurt, he inwardly added, rolling his eyes as he approached Neville, pulling out his wand. A swift, silent cutting spell later and Neville was free of his binds, floating slightly over the bottom of the lake, ebbing softly with the current. Harry nodded once again towards the merpeople gathered in the square, grabbed his brother tightly and swam upwards. He wasn't sure if he imagined it or not, but the merpeople seemed to cheer him on as he swam.

Imaginative or not, the cheering gave him the extra boost he needed to swim faster, even if the muscles in his tail were getting sore from all the swimming, Neville's added weight not helping either. The daylight grew stronger and stronger and finally, with a large splash, he emerged from the water. To his immense relief, he could hear Neville's intake of breath even over the loud cheering the moment his brother's head left the water.

"What took you so long?" Neville asked, slightly disorientated as his eyes locked on his brother, causing Harry to start laughing and almost drop him into the water as he swam towards the platform.

 


	61. Suspicions

After making certain Neville was pulled up and onto the platform safely, Harry dove underwater once again, looked around swiftly for any of the other three champions or lurking merpeople and let go of his hold on the ritual. He hastily wore his swimming trunks and emerged from the water, coughing slightly as he was pulled out of the lake. His brother was there, smiling at him while a panting Draco stood just a few feet away, his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. Harry smiled at them both, before chuckling once and accepting a towel from a very much bewildered Madame Pomfrey.

"Thank you." Harry said, his voice rough still. He made no attempts on standing on his feet just yet, knowing fully well how balance as a concept seemed to elude him after holding onto the ritual for so long. And the unfamiliar straining on the muscles on his legs -his  _tail_  muscles?- after all that swimming had left his lower body aching and stiff.

"You…did it!" Draco rasped, edging closer to the two Gryffindors, unceremoniously plopping down next to Neville. The blond Slytherin had been confused when he couldn't find Neville anywhere in the crowd and slightly unnerved when even Luna -who Neville had invited to watch the task with them- didn't know where he was. Only when Ginny, who Draco had come to realise was Luna's best friend, pointed out that neither Hermione nor Ron where there did the Slytherin remember the actual riddle from the egg. His legs had suddenly felt weak, his head spinning, as he found himself worried for both of his friends instead just one of them. Couldn't they have taken Harry's Firebolt instead?

"You doubted it?" Harry asked, grinning.

"And neither of you drowned!" Draco continued, gray eyes moving from one teen to the other, as if he was trying to reassure himself that they were both there.

"Why, you almost sounded worried back there, Draco!" Neville exclaimed, chuckling softly, as a small group of people walked toward the bank where the platform was located.

"About an hour ago, I realised you would both be underwater for Merlin knew how long." Draco stated, his face expressionless. "So, me, worried? No, Nev, I'm perfectly fine. Cool as a cucumber." That was about how long he managed to keep a straight face, a snort escaping his lips before turning into full blown laughter.

"Harry!" Lily's voice sounded from behind them; she was pushing her way through the assorted crowd and was closely followed by the three marauders and the Headmaster. Dumbledore had abandoned the judge's table and was walking towards Harry, closer to running than the green eyed wizard had ever seen him. His eyes were wide behind his glasses and he completely ignored Madam Pomfrey's curious stare as he passed her by. At the very end of the approaching group walked Severus, looking very much like the proverbial cat that had eaten the canary and had thoroughly enjoyed the experience.

His gait was easy and he was smiling widely, winking at the school's nurse as he passed her by. The older witch blushed and Severus chuckled, a skip on his step as he stepped on the platform. He managed one proud look towards his son before the teen was assaulted by his family.

"Harry! Are you alright?" Lily asked, kneeling down next to her son, checking for wounds or bruises.

"Just fine!" Harry stated, unable to wipe the smile from his face despite Lily's fussing. Draco shifted a bit to the left and towards Neville, not very comfortable in the presence of so many people that had never bothered to show how much they disliked everyone and everything with the name Malfoy.

"What was that?" James asked, looking at his son's legs as if they would once again turn into a tail any given minute.

"An incomplete transformation?" Remus asked intrigued. "That's what Krum did."

"Without a wand?" Sirirus inquired incredulously. "I saw you put your wand away Harry and don't you deny it!"

"I wasn't going to!" Harry exclaimed, rising his hands in mock surrender.

"It was not a transformation." Dumbledore's voice echoed over the questions fired all around, causing a swift silence to fall over the group.

"What was it then?" James asked, still looking to his youngest son in concern; it hadn't escaped him that Harry had yet to stand up.

"A ritual, James." The Headmaster offered, light blue eyes trained on Harry.

"A  _what_?" Sirius and Remus chorused, heads turning from Dumbledore to Harry so fast, the teen suspected they must have suffered some whiplash.

"Honestly, Albus, you can't believe…" Lily began, her voice less and less certain with every word uttered as Dumbledore's face remained unchanged. "Harry?"

"It was a ritual, I assure you." Harry offered, refusing to be anything else but pleased with his accomplishment. He had just completed a ritual; he had spent about an hour in a frozen lake; his legs were practically cramping and he didn't care one bit. Just for today, he'd think of nothing else but what he had succeeded. Just for one day.

"How?" James asked, his eyes wide as saucers. The whole group was looking at him now, not batting an eyelid.

"The traditional way?" Harry offered, massaging the muscles on his thigh. "I found the ritual -quite by accident I may add- I worked day and night to make it work and then I utilised what I had achieved. Rituals are only magic, after all."

" _Only_  magic?" James asked, taking off his glasses to rub his eyes. "They're extinct magic, Harry!"

"I'm guessing it was in one of the books Minnie dropped over?" Severus asked, still smiling broadly, absentmindedly shooing away a bug that kept landing on his shoulder.

"I can't believe  _that's_  how I ran into a ritual!" Harry exclaimed. "After all this research!"

"You have researched rituals, my boy?" Dumbledore asked, his eyes boring into Harry's. Before the teen could answer, he felt magic, coming in small subtle tendrils from the Headmaster, softly probing his mind. He had expected Dumbledore would resort to legilimency sooner or later. He swiftly hid anything he wanted hidden behind less important memories, not wanting to show the Headmaster the extent of his mental defences. Instead, he focused on his emancipation ritual as he answered Dumbledore's question.

"After my emancipation this summer," Harry said, keeping his smile unaffected as if the Headmaster hadn't just tried to invade the privacy of his thoughts, "I tried to look for any other rituals that are still in use today. Did you know there was a ritual involved in the official emancipation process?" He asked, turning towards Remus and Sirius. The werewolf and the dog animagus where looking at him as if he had just proclaimed he was leaving school to cultivate pumpkins or something of the sort.

"Uhm, no." Remus admitted, managing to collect his thoughts faster than his friend.

"Well, it does!" Harry offered. "So, I did some research but all I managed to find where the lasting effects of some rituals cast ages ago. Disappointed, I started looking at the subject from a more theoretical aspect; I found out about a type of rituals called blessings." He explained, deftly projecting an imaged of his shocked self -no need to fake that one- into the Headmaster's mind from when he read the ritual he had used for the first time. "I found the one I used completely by accident, but there you have it!" The presence from his mind withdrew, the tendrils that had reached to entwine with his thoughts disappearing. Still, the Headmaster's face didn't relax; his expression seemed to have sifted from guarded disbelief to complete confusion.

"And you just thought to use it?" Lily asked, sounding scandalized. "An extinct form of magic? What if it had side effects, Harry?" Green eyes rolled slightly.

"Rituals don't have side effects; they either work, or they don't. Much more specific and secure than actual spells!" Harry admitted.

"Then why haven't you stood up yet?" James asked, his voice accusing.

"'Cause he always walks a tad wonky after that ritual." Draco explained, before he managed to hold himself back. The witch and wizards around him turned to face him almost simultaneously.

"Draco Malfoy." James spat, the corners of his mouth pulled downwards as he sneered.

"I don't walk wonky at all!" Harry protested, not about to let James say a word more about Draco.

"Not at all." Neville agreed, his voice dripping sarcasm.

"I feel the support, Nev." Harry muttered as his brother shrugged, unrepentant.

"You should; we were the ones that broke your fall when you stumbled on your own feet and fell flat on your ar… behind." Draco amended realizing the Headmaster was staring at him, a slight blush covering his cheeks.

"You mean you knew what he was planning?" Sirius asked, more curious than angry. His gaze flew from Draco to Harry and Neville and then back to the Slytherin, mind travelling back at his first days in Gryffindor, when he had been the odd one out, when three boys had approached him. He shook his head slightly, focusing on the current conversation; Remus threw him a concerned look but he just shrugged, turning to face his godson.

"We both did." Neville explained. "Well, none of us knew I'd end up in the lake," the teen admitted, "but, when Harry came up with the idea, somebody had to make sure he didn't drown while he was practicing."

"Apparently, nobody tells  _me_  anything." Severus mumbled, a mock pout forming on his lips. He was quite enjoying the stunned expressions around him.

"So what?" James asked, hands flailing slightly. "Harry used a shady ritual -hurray!- and we leave it to that?"

"A very well respected ritual in its time, I assure you, Prongs." Harry said, eyes narrowing.

"You father is right, Harry." Albus seconded. "Rituals are a long forgotten and unexplored area of magic. They could prove dangerous." By then, Harry was getting angry. Long forgotten or not, it was quite clear that rituals did exactly and only what they described and were harmless if poorly executed, simply because they wouldn't work; Dumbledore must have known that. Severus too, wondered what Dumbledore was talking about. Was the old wizard trying to convince the Potters Harry could be harmed? Lily and James certainly looked startled enough to add some credit to his theory. That old, manipulative…

A splash was heard from the lake then, a human head full of tangled hair emerging next to one of a shark. Krum, Harry realized, with Hermione and not a second too soon. Madam Pomfrey and Karkaroff ran forwards impatiently as the two were soon pulled out of the lake, Victor's head morphing back to human. The Durmstrang champion turned his head towards Harry and nodded, a hand around Hermione's waist. The green eyed teen smiled back.

"Would you mind if we talked about this after everybody was out of the water?" Harry asked, as politely as he could. "Adrian is still in the water after all and the one hour mark is almost up." That seemed enough to make Lily and James turn their eyes towards the lake, as if extensive staring would make their oldest son appear. Dumbledore however was still staring at Harry and, even if he hadn't tried to access his mind again, the teen couldn't help but feel uncomfortable under his gaze.

"Haven't Ron and Adrian returned yet?" Harry could hear Hermione's distressed voice a few feet on his right. He simply shook his head negatively and turned his attention to Neville and Draco next to him. Severus soon joined their little group while Neville narrated how Dumbledore had sent for him in the middle of the night, explaining him and the rest of the hostages what their job would be.

"We were brought to the lake before sunrise and put under some sort of sleep enchantment." Neville explained. Sirius and Remus had approached them to listen to his tale, still pretending to stare off towards the lake. "The next thing I remember was being pulled out of the lake and seeing Draco over here practically jumping over a group of startled first years in order to reach us." And he tussled Draco's hair affectionately, the Slytherin looking quite affroanted.

"And asking me what had taken me so long!" Harry reminded him huffing and crossing his arms over his chest. The group chuckled as he added; "I'll have you know, I was fifteen minutes early!" He exclaimed as yet another champion emerged from the lake, a few minutes after the hour was through. Ron's red flaming red hair was easy to recognise even if Adrian's head was hidden under the membrane of the bubble head charm.

"Adrian!" Lily exclaimed as Madam Pomfrey brought yet another armful of towels to the two teens. Harry clapped and cheered along with the crowd as Adrian was pulled onto the platform, rising up as steadily as he could to meet him.

"If you fall, please fall on Draco." Neville offered, chuckling even as the Slytherin in question elbowed him in the ribs.

"Thanks for the vote of trust, Nev!" Harry exclaimed, walking -and only stumbling once, thank you very much- towards his twin.

"I'm not last, am I?" Adrian asked, looking around him and counting the champions he could see.

"Nope!" Harry assured him. Fleur chose that exact moment to come out the lake, her sister in her hands; Harry smiled and waived at her before moving closer to help her. He grabbed the towels from Madam Pomfrey who was still fussing over Ron and Adrian and handed them to the two sisters.

"Thank you, 'arry!" Fleur exclaimed, holding her sister close. She had quite a few scratches on her arms and face, but looked otherwise unharmed; noticing what Harry was looking at she swiftly reassured him; "If you 'and't reminded me of lake dwellers, I'd 'ave been in much more trouble with the grindylows." Harry chuckled and winked at her while she darted forward to hug him. "Thank you." She mumbled, her head hidden on the crook of his neck.

"For what? You did this all by yourself!" He offered, ignoring the cheering from the crowd along with Draco and Neville's whistling. It was then he noticed what was happening by the bank; Dumbledore was crouching at the water's edge, deep in conversation with what seemed to be the chief merperson, a particularly wild and ferocious-looking female. He was making the same sort of screechy noises that the merpeople made when they were above water; clearly, Dumbledore could speak

Mermish. Harry watched on quite interested in whole exchanged, oddly captivated by the strange language.

That was when the mermaid looked his way, pointing at him as she spoke to Dumbledore. Harry extracted himself from Fleur's arms and bowed his head slightly as the mermaid offered him the same courtesy in return, a wide smile filled with yellowed, sharp teeth on her face. The Headmaster watched the whole exchange with a bewildered air about him, while Harry turned to look at his father. The potions master was smiling widely, a look of absolute paternal pride on his face; it was times like these when Harry wondered how people couldn't see just how close he and Severus where. Shrugging he turned his attention towards the judges' table as Dumbledore returned to it.

The judges went into a huddle. Madam Pomfrey had gone to rescue Ron from Percy's clutches; the older Weasley sibling was holding onto Ron for dear life, looking him over for any injuries, acting very much like their mother did. Madam Pomfrey extracted Ron from his brother's arms and led him over to Adrian and the others, gave him a blanket and some Pepperup Potion, then went to fetch Fleur and Gabrielle who were still conversing animatedly by the lake. Harry went to stand next to Severus, Neville and Draco who had by then approached the rest of the Potters, moving closer to the judges. Just then, Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out beside them, making them all jump, and causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet.

"Bugger everything." Severus muttered, his hand clutching the woollen fabric of his deep burgundy pullover, over his erratically beating heart. Bagman and the Sonorus spell were added there and then in a long list of things that the potions master imagined would eventually lead him to heart failure.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. Merchieftainess Murcus

has told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake, and we have therefore decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows…" Bagman announced.

"We already know who's in first place!" Draco exclaimed, bumping his shoulder on Harry's.

"To Fleur Delacour, who demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm but was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, causing her to finish the task ten minutes out of time. We award her, thirty-eight points!" The crowd cheered on as Fleur sighed, pulling her sister closer; she knew she could have probably done much worse if she hadn't known of the grindylows but all that mattered to her at the moment was the fact that her baby sister was safe in her arms.

"To Adrian Potter," the cheering intensified, "who also used the Bubble-Head Charm but was delayed in his search and thus out of deadline by seven minutes, we award forty points!" Harry clapped along with the rest of the crowd, winking at his twin who smiled back.

"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was evertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage and within the time limit. We award him forty-four points." The students of Durmstarang hollered and cheered while Karkaroff stood up, applauding loudly, his gaze shifting ever so often towards Harry.

"Harry Potter," Bagman continued, his eyes wide as saucers as he turned to face the youngest champion alongside the rest of the crowd, "made excellent use of a blood ritual. He returned first with his hostage and, from what Merchieftainess Murcus has explained, showed great respect for her people. For that, we award him full points!" The crowd went crazy as Harry felt two sets of arms hugging him; Neville and Draco held onto his shoulders cheering, all three teens jumping up and down in excitement. Severus was laughing unrestrained at their antics as he applauded while Lily and James moved closer to congratulate their son too.

"We still have some talking to do." James reminded Harry, who simply cocked an eyebrow and returned to celebrating/frantically jumping up and down in glee.

"The third and final task will take place at dusk on the twenty-fourth of June," continued Bagman. "The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely

one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions." Madam Pomfrey began herding the champions and hostages back to the castle to get into dry clothes. Harry's parents and the remaining two Marauders went to join the Headmaster and Harry was certain he would meet them later that day. He shook his head in exasperation; for now, he would simply enjoy his success. He trusted the Weasley twins would have had the prudence to supply whatever party they had organized back into the Common Room with a respectful amount of chocolate.

 


	62. Tensions Rising

Harry left the Common Room first thing in the morning, intent on reaching his father's office before Dumbledore managed to summon him to his office for that dreaded talk. Last day had been spent in celebration, not only because Harry was in the lead, but because both he and Adrian had survived an hour underwater and that alone merited the party. Neville and Harry had snuck out of the Gryffindor tower late that afternoon to bring some butterbeer and cake to Draco and, after the excitement wore off, Harry had practically passed out on his bed, barely managing to put his pyjama bottoms on before he all but collapsed on the mattress.

The Headmaster hadn't called for him all day but Harry was certain that was going to happen soon; if Dumbledore was one thing, that would be curious. The man needed to know everything that was going on in Hogwarts and, most of the time, Harry grudgingly admitted, he had good reason for that. It seemed that since he had stepped foot at Hogwarts Dumbledore's job had become that much more demanding, what with Voldemort attacking every year. Still, needing information and invading the mind of one of your students to get it were two very different things. All of Harry's instincts told him he should go to Dumbledore's office and yell abuse at him till his throat was sore and possibly try to land a good hex or two before the Headmaster knew what hit him.

That was why he had opted on taking the subject to his father first; the more he thought about it -now that his mind had cleared of the sheer joy of making it out of the lake in one piece- the angrier he got and he figured the potions master would be able to come up with a better idea than throwing random hexes to the Headmaster. Harry had considered that option too; he had deemed it entertaining but ultimately counter-productive. Yesterday's reactions told him that Dumbledore was somewhat wary of him already and transforming the older wizard into a goat -possibly leaving him out in the Great Hall to bleat for help afterwards- wouldn't help his case. The temptation however was there, especially when he tried to picture goat-Dumbledore's beard. That would be a sight to behold, he mused and giggled just as he knocked on Severus' quarters' door.

"You seem happy this morning!" Severus stated instead of a greeting him, motioning his son to come in. "Care to share the good news?"

"Dumbledore used legilimency on me yesterday, after the task trying to see where I got the ritual from. Oh, and I think he'd make an impressive goat." Harry offered, letting his words sip into the potions master's mind.

"A goat? What are you…" Severus uttered before he realized exactly what Harry had said " _Legilimency_?" He seethed, his hand going for his wand instinctively. "He tried to look into your head?"

"Legilimecny usually implies…" Harry began, belatedly realizing his mistake; if Severus was supposed to stop him from assaulting the Headmaster, who was going to stop Severus from doing the same? The potions master pushed his son gently towards the couch and motioned for him to sit down while he paced in front of him, looking more and more furious as the seconds ticked by. Maybe turning Dumbledore into a goat would have been the humane thing to do, Harry thought idly as Severus muttered hushed curses.

"He used  _legilimency_. On my  _son_! That bloody git!" The last exclamation was accompanied by a sudden wave of his wand -when had he reached for it, Harry wondered- a flurry of dark blue sparks erupting from the tip.

"Yes, but…"

"And what did you do?" The potions master asked, stopping abruptly, kneeling in front of his son to look him in the eye, his expression filled with worry.

"I was in plain view of the whole school, Dad!" Harry exclaimed. "What could I do? I tried not to lose my calm and made certain all he saw fit perfectly with the image of a bookish, somewhat brazen Gryffindor."

"You could have kept him out of your mind completely." Severus offered, looking at his son contemplatively.

"And then have to explain how I was able to block a master legilimens?" The teen asked, causing the potions master to nod in agreement, before standing up and resuming his pacing. "I have a feeling he has seen my performance so far and the conclusions he has reached, as always when it comes to me, err a bit."

"As long as they don't err on the side that would classify you as a threat." Severus said, his voice solemn, eyes widening in realization.

"Me?" Harry asked, his voice rising in pitch. "A threat? To whom? Adrian?"

"Dumbledore has come up with weirder conclusions." The potions master reminded him, taking a seat across his son, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden.

"But why would he think of something like that?"

"Look, I say we put a stop to this conversation until you actually speak with the Headmaster…"

"But why would he think something like that?" Harry protested, his face confused, his shoulders set in silent fury. "I have never…  _why_?" Severus rose to place a comforting hand on his son's shoulder. He had observed his son throughout his whole life; Harry's personality, while quite complex -if he was allowed to say so himself- had a few basic outlines that had become quite clear as grew up. His son was equal parts smart and sarcastic. He had difficulties with relating to children his age until Neville had shown up. He was sometimes self-conscious, not always trusting himself to accomplish what prophecies expected of him. He often tried to hide that fact, not wanting to worry Severus, but the potions master could see the doubt in his son's eyes. Still, as much as he doubted himself, as scared as he got, if he knew something had to be done, if he knew that he had the power to help, he would do it.

Harry could be patient when situations called for it and he was difficult to ire. He had never truly seen his son angry at someone or something, maybe with the notable exception of the Flamels' deaths; then he had been angry with everything and had responded with locking himself in a room for a month, almost starving himself as he single-mindedly worked to create a Philosopher's Stone. He was only eleven at the time, the potions master reminded himself, but a teenager now.

Harry had also learned to be stoic, learned how to not allow his family get to him as he grew up. And he had thrown his life on the line for a twin brother that had never seen him as an equal, no matter how good his intentions might have been. Despite everything, Severus knew Harry would risk his life for the people he cared about time and time again, whenever the circumstances would call for it. He would do that for Adrian and the Potters, Black and Lupin and Merlin help whoever threatened him, Neville or even Draco.

And that was the key element of his character, the one that would guide his actions in the coming war; Harry would protect the ones he cared about to the very end. To have that doubted openly could possibly hurt him more than anything Voldemort could ever do to him. And if anything could ever truly anger him, Severus thought looking at his son, that would be it; Harry's eyes were narrowed, his lips pressed in a thin line and he was shaking with anger, boiling closely under his skin.

"I know you have done nothing to merit such distrust, Harry." Severus stated, trying to calm the green eyed wizard as much as he could. "But Dumbledore only sees the twin brother of the boy who lived, somebody he has only now began to realize he has left in the sidelines for fourteen years."

"And that automatically makes me a threat?" Harry asked, not yet appeased.

"Of course not!" Severus exclaimed. "It makes you something he hadn't factored into the greater scheme. And, as I said, wait till the conversation actually takes place." Harry nodded and sighed deeply, willing his anger away; there was no use getting riled up yet, his father was right.

"Let's see how it goes." He agreed turning to look at the potions master. "I just hope he doesn't try to pry into my head again." Severus nodded in agreement -he would have to come up with some sort of payback for that later, there was no way Dumbledore would go unpunished- and tried to come up with something else to talk about.

"So, a ritual?" He asked, smiling at his son.

"Yes. We have to take a better look at the books in the library back home come the summer. I can't believe a ritual was there the whole time!" The teen exclaimed, his mood lightening ever so slightly. Severus smiled wider, feeling no small sense of accomplishment for the sparkle in Harry's eyes.

Harry left his father's office an hour later, his head clearer and his heart lighter than it was when he had arrived. He rejoined Neville and Draco for breakfast -he hadn't even realized he had woken up that early- and the two boys did their best to keep his mind off the topic of Dumbledore. And the day had gone great after that, right until dinner. For it seemed the Headmaster had deemed that the talk was to happen that very evening. At least, that was what the note he had sent him wrote, asking Harry to please join the Headmaster at his office after he was done with his food.

Harry hastened, wanting noting more than to get this over with. It was the waiting that got to him usually and not the actual confrontation. He explained to Neville where he was going, nodded reassuringly to Draco and smiled once to his father before leaving the Great Hall. He arrived at Dumbledore's office before the Headmaster and decided to make himself comfortable. At the beginning he thought the office completely empty until his eyes fell on Fawkes; the phoenix was asleep on his perch and Harry, not wanting to wake him up, sent the sleeping creature a fond smile before quietly taking the seat in front of Dumbledore's office.

"Harry, my boy!" The Headmaster's voice sounded from the office's entrance. Harry hadn't heard the door opening so he had to suppress jumping on his seat in surprise; that wasn't how he intended to start this conversation at all.

"Professor Dumbledore." Harry greeted the old wizard as amiably as possible, standing up to greet him.

"I'm sorry to have asked for you at such an hour but alas, my schedule has been full today! Please, sit down!" Harry did as instructed, trying to appear as calm as possible. "Could I entice you with a lemon sorbet?" Dumbledore asked, offering Harry the bawl filled with said candy.

"Thank you, professor, but I just ate." Harry answered with a smile, eyeing the candy, feeling slightly paranoid. The Headmaster wouldn't place something strong on them -definitely not a truth serum!- but a mild compulsion spell? He wouldn't put that above him. And just to be sure, he prodded the bawl with his magic, indeed finding faint traces of magic there; to be fair, it was too little to tell exactly what it was as Harry had not yet achieved such a level in tracing and sensing magical signatures. For all he knew, it could have been the remnants of the last cleaning spell that had been used to polish the silver bawl. Still, better safe than sorry!

"As you wish." The Headmaster allowed, not taking a sorbet himself. The small paranoid voice in Harry's head exclaimed a soft  _'aha!'_  as if its suspicions had been proven and Harry tried not to chuckle at the path down which his own thoughts had gone.

"May I ask why you wanted to talk to me?" Harry asked, deciding to cut straight to the chase.

"Of course." Dumbledore stated, his smile seeming just a tad less friendly. "I wanted to talk to you about the blood ritual you used yesterday."

"It wasn't a blood ritual." Harry stated in a would-be-calm voice. Green eyes connected with blue and the Headmaster seemed just a bit taken aback by the statement.

"Harry…"

"Excuse me professor but, seeing as it did not require a sacrifice of blood in any form, I can not see how you classified it as a blood ritual." The green eyed wizard stated, leaning a bit further into his armchair. Was his father right? Did Dumbledore think him capable of harming his family and friends? "Yesterday I assumed it was Mr. Bagman that had made the mistake of classifying the ritual I used under that category. No offence, but he doesn't strike me as one to know much about rituals."

"My dear boy," the Headmaster exclaimed, somewhat surprised by the evident slumping of the teens posture, "I didn't mean to offend you! I just thought…"

"Excuse me, sir," Harry interrupted him, "but you did spoke to the merchieftainess yesterday. What did she tell you?"

"She said it was an honour to see the old rites still held strong amongst some of our race." The Headmaster admitted. "She proclaimed you a friend of her tribe." And you thought of telling me that just now? Harry thought, closing his eyes and counting to ten in an attempt to maintain his composure.

"That's because the ritual I used is a blessing; it's supposed to show respect. And even if, as all rituals, is a part of blood magic, that does not make it a blood ritual itself." Harry explained.

"I see." The Headmaster stated, leaning back into his own chair, studying the boy in front of him. He seemed to consider something for a few seconds before Harry felt it once more. The soft tendrils of legilimency reaching for his mind. This time he didn't hold back. Dumbledore visibly flinched as his efforts collided with the iron wall that surrounded Harry's mind.

"You really thought that necessary?" Harry asked, his voice tight, his eyes glaring at the Headmaster. "You felt as if you needed to interrogate me?"

"Harry, I…"

" _No_!" The teen exclaimed, anger coursing through his body. "Yesterday I allowed you to look into my mind because I had done nothing wrong. But you can't just barge in there as if it means nothing! It's my  _mind_! Not to mention that since this isn't, in fact, an interrogation, using legilimency on me is quite illegal." It was the last part that made the Headmaster startle more than anything.

"I offer you my sincere apologies, Mr Potter." Dumbledore said. Mr Potter? Harry asked himself, cocking an eyebrow. That was different. "I just didn't think…"

"You'd get caught?" Harry completed the sentence for him, still glaring at the Headmaster. "Look, professor, I have no idea what you'd thought you could find in my mind. I allowed you entrance yesterday when I could have easily stopped you and that should speak by itself for my intentions." No need to tell the man he hadn't caught even a glimpse of what was going on in his head!

"I never doubted your intentions." Dumbledore offered, causing Harry to roll his eyes.

"If it was not doubting me, then what was so important you had to see for yourself? What persuaded you that I wouldn't answer your questions should you have asked? I would have been glad to give you the book where I found the ritual; if you want it, you can still read it." Harry assured the Headmasted, not allowing him any lenience on that subject.

"I would like to, if you don't mind." Dumbledore offered after some short contemplation. Resisting the urge to throw his hands up in surrender, Harry simply stood from his chair.

"You can have it." Harry offered. "Now, if there's nothing else you need me for…"

"No, that would be all." Dumbledore said.

"Good." Harry stated and turned to leave. He would have walked right out the door, if it hadn't been for a trill coming from the phoenix in the corner of the room. It seemed that the commotion had startled Fawkes, who was now looking between his master and the boy he had helped two years ago in confusion. Harry smiled, some of the tension leaving his body upon hearing the melodious cry. Without waiting for permission, he approached the phoenix and stroke his wings reassuringly. Fawkes leaned into the touch and Harry let him go, moving towards the door again. He turned his head over his shoulder at the very last minute, looking at the Headmaster. The old wizard must have been pretty interested with the interaction between his familiar and Harry, for he now looked slightly guilty, if the teen wasn't mistaken. Serves you right, he thought. "And Headmaster." He called over his shoulder. "If you as much as attempt to look into my mind again, I will not hesitate to take legal actions. Goodnight."

Needless to say, Harry was trembling all the way to the Common Room. He had just threatened Dumbledore, he mused. Well, it had been more of a warning, truly, but the sentiment had been very clear. And the Headmaster had just sat there, taking it in, not even protesting. Neville, once he heard the news simply burst out laughing, trying to conjure the image of a sheepish Dumbledore. Draco, who heard about the talk on the next day, simply congratulated his friend, stating that, should he finally decide upon taking legal action, he knew a good lawyer or two.

Severus had been thrilled to hear what Harry had achieved, looking smug for the whole following week, throwing condescending glances towards the Headmaster. Dumbledore himself looked more pensive than ever. No matter what he had planned, Harry thought, this was nothing even close to it. He still couldn't believe he had managed to shock the Headmaster into such a contemplative state but he couldn't find it in him to regret it either. Honestly, Dumbledore should have known better.

It was a week after  _The Talk_  -with capital 'T' as Harry often marked it in his thoughts- when his everyday life was disrupted once more. This time it was by none other than Rita Skeeter. The journalist had written a very long article regarding Harry's close friendship with Neville and Draco, citing the feud between the Potter and Malfoy families, going back as much as a century back. Draco had found it hilarious and so had Neville. Harry had shared their opinions till a letter had arrived from James, filled to the brim with advices for caution. Draco was a Malfoy, James explained, and as such not to be trusted. Harry had made a show of throwing the letter into the fireplace, smiling manically all the while.

"Parental advice. Really?" He muttered to Neville, who was eyeing his brother's expression wearily. "That's rich!"

"Well, there's nothing he can do," the brown eyed Gryffindor reminded him, "so you shouldn't bother really." And Harry was fully prepared to follow that advice. The days were drawing near to the third and final task, after all, and he had to focus on that and that alone. Well, that and the Arithmancy OWL he was to take on the end of term. So, he ignored James urging and the frozen glares he received from some of his fellow Gryffindors every time he was spotted with Draco. It was his own life to live after all, he thought, not even knowing how much said life would change in a few short months.


	63. Labyrinth

March and April passed in a very peculiar manner for Harry. The missives from Potter manor had increased dramatically for starters, his parents suddenly that much more interested in his everyday life. He had been trying to answer back with answers as vague as possible. After that first letter, neither James nor Lily had tried to actively express their opinions on Draco and his apparent friendship with their younger son, that of course in no way signifying they had ceased interfering completely. Rather than expressing their opinions on the subject openly, they had instead found an ally in Adrian.

Hoping that their oldest son would be in a better position to change Harry's mind, they had, apparently, asked him to keep an eye on his twin, covertly expressing his thoughts on Draco. It was a lucky happenstance that Adrian was singularly bad at being covert; it hadn't taken more than a week till Harry made the connection between the odd glances he received from his twin while the older Potter was reading letters from home and the diatribes on how Draco and Slytherins in general were "a bad lot" that followed them.

Harry had simply opted to let his twin keep trying on that, inwardly cursing and hoping Merlin would grant him patience. Nobody had been hexed, cursed or impaled by a sword as of yet, so he figured he was doing well enough on that aspect.

It appeared that Skeeter's article had had the exact opposite effect on the Malfoy patriarch. Draco had ran towards Harry and Neville, the day after James had deemed his youngest son was in dire need of some guidance, practically cackling and thrusting a piece of parchment into their faces. After the initial shock wore off, Harry had read, in the elegant script of Lucius Malfoy, how he congratulated his son on managing to become the reason why James and Harry were at odds. He seemed to have been informed of the recent argument between the two the day after the article was published, from a friend of his that worked in the Ministry, and had hasted to compliment his son on his achievement.

"Listen to this." Draco said, his eyes skimming over the letter to find the part he wanted to relate.  _"I must admit, Draco, that when you originally wrote me of why you had befriended Harry Potter, I was somewhat disbelieving of your motives. A Potter is, in any case, always a Potter and, as such, a firm campaigner of the opposing side, not to mention an avid devotee of that demented old imbecile that, regretfully and exasperatingly, still passes as the Headmaster of Hogwarts…"_

"Where was this letter sent from?" Neville interjected, surprising both his brother and Draco.

"Malfoy manor." The Slytherin answered, sensing he hadn't quite grasped the meaning of the question.

"Not the early nineteenth century?" Neville asked again, making his friends laugh as he mouthed a few choice words from the letter, reading it over Draco's shoulder.

"It gets better, you'll see." Draco assured him and carried on reading.  _"Yet, recent evolvements have shown me the prudence of your decision. Distancing young Harry from the Potter family could prove extremely advantageous to us in the future, creating a possible ally…"_

"Good luck with that, mate!" Nev exclaimed, as Harry chuckled, still nodding in agreement.

"…  _for our forces."_  Draco continued undeterred, even though he allowed himself an even wider smile.  _"I expect nothing more than the excellent results your plan has so far brought. At this point, I would like to stress that this letter should only be read in private -even some of our House may talk when coerced; as you well know some of them are do not possess brightest of minds. I would especially like to stress the paramount importance of it not falling into the youngest Potter's hands…"_  Draco looked at Harry there and added; "So don't touch it, Potter," before he continued. _"… I expect changes will be coming our way soon, and endangering the cause is the last thing we need."_

"Changes?" Harry asked, his good mood dissipating. He well knew what the cause was. Changes, and good ones from what he understood, could only mean great trouble.

"That part was a bit disconcerting." Draco agreed, catching on the changing mood of his friends.

"A bit?" Neville asked, his smile having faded completely.

"Look," Draco said, his eyes facing the ground, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken, "I have heard my father stating that changes for "the cause" are due ever since I can remember. Nothing has happened yet." He smiled with no real humour before adding; "When I was younger, it scared me. All the talking for the cause, father did. His friends would gather every other night and lock themselves in his office; father would be ecstatic by the time they left."

"I'm sorry, Draco." Harry muttered, clearly seeing from Draco's expression that the memories he was recalling were not happy ones.

"It's not your fault." Draco said, smiling again, a little more feeling behind the expression. "I remember one of my parents' fights over the subject; I was supposed to be sleeping at the time, but I never managed to when these gatherings took place, not before everyone left. Anyway, I had gone to check if they were indeed gone, when I caught Mom pleading with father; she said that they had me now, they were no longer teenagers. He… he didn't take to it nicely." Draco smiled apologetically, as his two friends shared a look.

"Draco…" Neville began, but the blond teen interrupted him.

"I'm not like him, you know." He stated, the words bursting out involuntarily, as if the thought had been troubling for some time and he had only then managed to find the courage to put it into words. "At least, I don't think I… that goes to say, I don't  _want_  to…" His voice trailed off, his eyes stuck on the floor.

"We know." Harry assured him. "And you won't become him. Not if you don't want to." Draco looked up at him, his expression tentatively hopeful. "I'm not Prongs." Harry added, smiling widely.

"You're not." Draco agreed. "Maybe you're like professor Snape." He added, his eyes widening as he realized what he had said. "I didn't want to presume…"

"Oh, shut it Malfoy!" Harry exclaimed, throwing an arm over the blonde's shoulders. "I happen to agree, plus that was the best compliment you could have paid me!" Draco smiled tentatively, relieved not only to not having insulted Harry but to have his fears abate for the time being.

"Now, shall we take this to the Great Hall?" Neville asked, smiling fondly at the two teens. "We're missing breakfast!" Their smiles endured during breakfast and, by the time they arrived at professor Flitwick's class for double Charms, the weight seemed to have completely lifted off Draco's shoulders, as Harry and he laughed over Neville's attempts to talk as Lucius wrote.

"Would I be presumptuous if I dared suppose our sitting plans remain unchanged? That is to say, we shall be seated at the front row yet again, on adjacent seats, correct?" The brown eyed Gryffindor asked, his expression haughty.

"Stop! Mercy!" Draco called, tears of laughter running down his face as Harry held onto his shoulder, having almost toppled over. The green eyed wizard had given up trying to hold his amusement back and had started guffawing and then laughing hysterically as they reached the corridor that led to Flitwick's classroom.

"My most esteemed companions, I did not mean to discomfort you. Please except my humblest apologies! I remain, as ever, your faithful servant!" And he laughed along too, having concluded his monologue in a manner he thought fitting.

"Are you alright, gentlemen?" The squeaky voice of professor Flitwick sounded from the entrance of the classroom and even the polite way in which he had addressed them, natural as it was, was all it took for them to burst into renewed laughter. Harry nodded once to reassure the Charms teacher as he walked past him, Neville and Draco in tow, both trying to stifle their laughter; Draco had brought his palm over his lips, his shoulders shaking, small chuckles escaping him now and again while Neville had simply opted to look everywhere but at his two friends for fear of losing what little composure he had regained all over again.

The jovial atmosphere remained unchanged up until next morning, when Hermione, crying and shaking, left the Great Hall in a hurry. She was holding her hands close to her body but Harry could still see the boils starting to spread from her fingertips and upwards. She had just opened some of her mail and one letter in particular included some sort of potion perhaps -undiluted bubotuber pus, he amended as the stench reached his nostrils before he could even get a good look at the substance- that had spattered her. Harry and Neville exchanged a confused glance; it didn't take very long to find out that Rita Skeeter had published yet another article, targeting this time Hermione alone, making less than favourable comments on her character and love life. Neither Adrian's name nor Victor's was clearly stated, in fear of further threats for law suits, but it did not take an OWL in Ancient Runes to read between the lines.

"What I would like to know," Severus said later that day, when Harry narrated what exactly had taken place, "is how she manages to keep sneaking inside the castle. Dumbledore may be many things," he stated, his lips pressed in a thin line for a few moments, not yet having forgotten or forgiven the Headmaster's treatment of his son, "but I know he has ordered her out of Hogwarts on a permanent basis."

"You think she's been sneaking in?" Harry asked.

"You said it yourself, Harry; she knew that Hermione was planning to spend the summer in the company of Victor Krum, even if she did not have his name printed." The green eyed wizard nodded in agreement. He had witnessed Ron's reaction to the news first hand when he had dropped by the infirmary to check on Hermione. Apparently, Victor had asked her if she wanted to come over to his family's vacation house over the summer right after he pulled her out of the lake. Problem was, Rita Skeeter had been nowhere to be seen at that time.

"But with all the wards that are set up around Hogwarts, how could she be sneaking in? Especially during the tournament!" Harry wondered out loud.

"I have no idea." The potions master admitted. "But I intend to find out, rest assured. Was this all you wanted to talk about?"

"Actually, no." Harry admitted. "Draco received a letter from his father today, one that he wasn't supposed to show neither me nor Neville, to be honest. Lucius Malfoy seems to think changes are coming. Changes that benefit what he calls "the cause". Draco says he's been going on about such changes ever since he can remember, so it could be nothing but I figured you should know."

"Thank you for telling me, Harry." Severus said, settling deeper into his armchair, his expression contemplative. "I wanted to wait a little and see how things went before I told you but, in light of recent events, I should mention Karkaroff has been trying to corner me these past few days."

"Corner you?" Harry asked confused. "Corner you how?"

"He's been staring at me for one. And last night I ran into him on the corridor to my office. I had already started my rounds with Filius however, so he didn't stop me; just started some more and passed us by." The potions master explained.

"You think it has something to do with Voldemort?" Harry inquired, leaning forward, fully concentrated on the conversation.

"Was this any other year," Severus started, rubbing his temples as if to ward away the first tendrils of a headache, "I would have told you if Voldemort was on the move immediately." He picked up his wand and touched the tip on his left forearm; the concealing charm he had placed there -the same Harry had on his emblem- lifted, Severus' own emblem showing through. "But with the Dark Mark gone, I have severed all connections with both Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

"And it was the right thing to do." Harry stated emphatically, not wishing for his father to regret something he had hoped would happen for many years, almost ever since he had taken the Dark Mark. "You deserved that thing off you. It isn't your curse to carry anymore, Dad. It never should have been and it never really was."

"Thank you." Was all Severus said, staying silent after that for a few moments, smiling softly at his son. "Anyway," he said after sighing, his gaze turning to the lit fireplace, "I may not bare the mark any longer but Igor certainly does. And if something has happened, if Voldemort is gaining power, then his mark will be getting darker every passing day; when I got rid of mine it was almost faded away, just a vague outline remaining. Any change would be easy to discern, provided he shows me it."

"Let's hope we're both being paranoid and Malfoy Sr. is being delusional." Harry offered, making his father nod in agreement. As much as Severus might have wished it however, that very night he found out that such hope was ill founded. Karkaroff didn't wait long, knowing what time Severus was about to start making his rounds. He chose instead to approach the potions master right after dinner, as Severus was walking back to his rooms. He sidetracked him and pushed him into an empty classroom, only being spared a curse because Severus had not only been expecting him but wanting a chance get a glimpse of his Dark Mark too.

"I've been wanting to talk to you for days!" Karkaroff exclaimed, a frantic look about him. He reeked of fire whiskey, Severus noted, the vaguely annoyed look he had plastered on his face being momentarily tempered with unveiled disgust. It seemed however that the other man was too inebriated to notice. "You've been avoiding me." Igor accused him.

"I had not realized I was obliged to socialize with the likes of you." The potions master stated, his voice cold and detached. Even during his time as a spy between the Death Eaters' lines he had only spoken to those necessary to gather information for Dumbledore and the Order. Igor had not been one of them and they had seldom engaged into a conversation on their own, meeting mostly before and after raids.

"You always acted high and mighty, Severus!" Igor said, his tone accusatory. "But look at us now! Here I am, a Headmaster, and here you are a…"

"Recipient of an Order of Merlin, First Class? A worldwide renowned potions master? What?" Severus completed his sentence sarcastically, not wanting to be in Karkaroff's presence any more than necessary; if he remembered one thing of the man, that would be his ability to talk about himself from dusk till down. He needed him to talk about why he wanted to see him, not brag about what he had achieved while he should have been rotting in Azkaban.

"You think it will matter, what you have achieved? You think  _he_  will be pleased with you helping werewolves and the Ministry and raising the Potter brat?" Severus seethed inside, his anger shimmering and growing with each word the other man uttered. Karkaroff could say anything he wanted about him but he had better not even think about Harry, let alone speak about him in such a way.

"I hope you have a good reason for being here, Karkaroff." He said, pulling out his wand, his eyes trailed on the man across him. "You have already taken up too much of my time." Igor gulped, sensing he had treaded some invisible line that should have not been crossed; he still remembered how Severus fought, how even the Dark Lord had praised him for his magical prowess. He realized, even in his alcohol induced haze, that he did not want to face that side of the potions master.

"You must have seen it too, Severus." Karkaroff said, slowly lifting his left sleeve to point at his forearm. "There is no way you could have miss it!" And as he extended his hand towards Severus, the potions master could feel his heart turning into led and sinking; for there, clearly illuminated by the torches on the walls, stood the Dark Mark. It was not as clear as he remembered it from the days of Voldemort's reign, but it was much clearer than it had been last July. The mark was a dark grey, the details clearly visible; Voldemort was returning, he realized. What had been prophesised was fast approaching.

"Of course I have, Karkaroff!" Severus hissed, trying not to let his fear appear on his expression. "But I didn't think it prudent to parade the mark around for the world to see! Anybody could walk into this classroom!"

"But I had to tell you… I…" Igor stuttered, for some reason not having expected such a reaction.

"You're terrified he's coming back." Severus surmised. "You stayed out of prison by giving information on other Death Eaters and now you fear retribution." As you probably should, he added mentally; Voldemort did not take well to traitors. "I fail to see how that's my problem." If anybody asked him, Karkaroff should have been locked into Askaban years ago; Severus had been there. He had seen Karkaroff engage in monstrosities during the war. Anything the man got from that point on would be just desserts, even if the punishment came from the hands of the Death Eaters and not the Ministry; in an ideal world Igor would have been judged for his crimes and imprisoned. There were some days the potions master thought he too should have been punished more severely, even if he knew he had already started spying for the order before even his first raid.

"But if he comes back, I'm a dead man!" Igor exclaimed, his face paling.

"You should have thought of that sooner!" Severus exclaimed and turned around, leaving the room. He could hear Karkaroff calling for him as he walked away but he didn't turned around even once. He had a lot to think about and little time to do it. Things were progressing fast and he did not know how much time there would be before even worse things were upon them all.

It was in such an atmosphere that May rolled in. Spring holidays had come and gone, with Severus coming up with theory after theory on how Voldemort could be regaining his strength. He had informed Dumbledore of the talk he had had with Karkaroff, going to great lengths to keep his forearm hidden -Dumbledore had already have gathered similar information about Voldemort rising in power again, so there, thankfully, had been little need to show his marl- reluctantly putting aside all thoughts of retribution for the Headmaster's behaviour in sake of what was coming their way.

The members of the old Order where once again in upheaval as Dumbledore went about gathering more information on Voldemort and his possible whereabouts. The Potters -what little Severus had seen of them- were assisting in any way possible, working through the Ministry and around it when necessary. Still, their search had been for naught. If Dumbledore knew something of Voldemort's whereabouts -which was highly doubtful- he was not sharing and none of them was the wiser.

In the meantime, Harry was getting as much training as possible, preparing for his last task; he couldn't shake the feeling of dread he had been feeling ever since his father had informed him of the latest changes on Karkaroff's mark. Voldemort was returning, as everything showed, and there was little to nothing he could do about it. Since that realization had come to him during a Defence Against the Drak Arts class, he had ended up erring a bit on the power behind his deflective hex that the practice dummy he had been training with had exploded, even if the original spell he had deflected had been a mere tickling hex.

Even Moody had stopped whatever it had been that he was doing to stand and stare at him in surprised contemplation -or maybe that was just his way of congratulating his students? His mismatched eyes guaranteed the recipient of his stares would be intimidated or, in the least uncomfortable and Harry wasn't an exception to the rule. No matter what the case was, Harry had apologised profusely, thanked the ex auror for the five points he had been rewarded and explained to Neville in hushed tone what exactly had caused his outburst. His brother had tried to reassure him, reminding him that Voldemort was good at hiding if nothing else; if Dumbledore and the Order could not find him, it meant he had pulled everything he had to make that possible.

No matter Neville's reassurances, Harry's dark mood lasted for the remainder of the week. Draco had soon joined Neville in his tries to lift Harry's spirits and their efforts had been met with mild success. Harry's feelings of inadequacy had lasted all through the next few days, only to be pushed away without ever managing to leave the back of his mind completely, on the day the four champions were called to receive the clue about the last ask.

Professor McGonagall had informed him of the fact after class on the last day of May; he was to walk to the Quidditch field at nine o'clock, where he would meet with the other champions for further explanations. He bid Neville and Draco goodbye for the moment, following Adrian out of the ret Hall where they had been gathered for dinner.

"So," Adrian asked after a prolonged silence, "what do you think the task may be?"

"Fleur's been going on and on about underground tunnels and treasure, but I have no idea." Harry stated, remembering the conversation the two of them had during the latest excursion to Hogsmeade. There was no longer a doubt in Harry's mind that he and Fleur where, in fact, a couple. It had only taken a rather daring sixth year student, a Ravenclaw girl, that had asked Harry if he was willing to accompany her and her group around Hogsmeade's shops. Fleur had linked an arm with his, proclaiming that, if said girl wanted somebody to walk with around the village, she should find herself her own boyfriend. Harry would deny he had blushed for the remainder of his days, even if Draco and Neville with Luna had been just a few feet away from him and had seen his reaction clear as day.

"That's encouraging." Adrian muttered, whether it had been to his brother's lack of knowledge on what was to happen on the task or the notion of searching treasure underground that had discouraged him so, he did not tell. "What have they done to the field?" A scandalized Adrian exclaimed a few minutes later.

The Quidditch field was no longer smooth and flat. It looked as though somebody had been building long, low walls all over it that twisted and crisscrossed in every direction.

"They're hedges!" said Harry, bending to examine the nearest one. Actually, they looked like tentacula creepers, he added inwardly, shuddering at the mere notion. Still, the hedges made no move for his legs, so he surmised he must have been wrong.

"Hello there!" called a cheery voice. Ludo Bagman was standing in the middle of the field with Krum and Fleur. Adrian and Harry made their way toward them, climbing over the hedges. Fleur beamed at Harry as he came nearer.

"Well, what d'you think?" said Bagman happily as Harry and Adrian climbed over the last hedge. "Growing nicely, aren't they?" How could I know that? Harry wondered. Give them a month and Hagrid'll have them twenty feet high. Don't worry," he added, grinning, spotting the less-than-happy expressions on Harry's and Adrian's faces, "you'll have your Quidditch field back to normal once the task

is over!" Harry didn't know about his twin, but he wasn't worried about the field at the moment as much as he was of the twenty feet high bushes. "Now, I imagine you can guess what we're making here?" No one spoke for a moment, even if Harry looked at Fleur and was reminded of a night one summer ago; in the garden of the castle where they had danced for the first time there had been a…

"Maze," grunted Krum. Yes, that, Harry commented mentally, agreeing with Victor's assession, nodding his head once.

"That's right!" said Bagman. "A maze. The third task's really very straightforward. The Triwizard Cup will be placed in the center of the maze. The first champion to touch it will receive full marks."

"We simply 'ave to get through the maze?" asked Fleur, looking over the formation of the hedges.

"There will be obstacles," said Bagman happily, bouncing on the balls of his feet as if he was delighted to announce their probabilities of being eaten alive would be was high as ever. "Hagrid is providing a number of creatures…" Lovely, Harry thought, his mind immediately flying to acromadulas. "Then there will be spells that must be broken… all that sort of thing, you know. Now, the champion who's leading on points will get a head start into the maze." He said, smiling widely at Harry. "Then the rest will continue in accordance to their points. But you'll all be in with a fighting chance, depending how well you get past the obstacles. Should be fun, eh?" Oh, yes, should be absolutely entertaining. He loved acromadulas anyway! Still, he nodded alongside the rest champions, not quite knowing what he could say to make the situation less scary.

"Very well… if you haven't got any questions, we'll go back up to the castle, shall we, it's a bit chilly…" Bagman offered, approaching Adrian as he spoke; Harry was pretty sure Bagman had money on Adrian winning and he was about to have his suspicions confirmed when Krum interrupted Bagman's approach of his twin.

"Could I haff a vord?" Victor asked.

"Yeah, all right," said Adrian, looking surprised.

"Vill you valk vith me?"

"Okay," said Adrian curiously. Harry listened into the conversation with confusion; what could Victor have to talk to Adrian about in secret? All he could think of was Hermione and, thinking his solution probably the right one, he shrugged the whole exchange off and carried on. Bagman looked however still perturbed.

"I'll wait for you, Adrian, shall I?"

"No, it's okay, Mr. Bagman," said the hazel eyed Potter twin, shaking his head negatively. "I think I'll be alright on my own, thanks." Harry and Krum left the stadium together, but Krum did not set a course for the Durmstrang ship. Instead, he walked toward the forest. The two of them walked until they were gone from Harry's eyes and he turned back to talking with Fleur, both making speculations about what the maze might contain in the form of challenges. The two had parted ways near the Beauxbatons carriage with a kiss, Harry carrying on towards the castle smiling widely as he caught up with Bagman. He made a straight line to the Common Room and that was why he didn't find out about the events that transpired on the grounds of Hogwarts only next morning, by an upset Adrian.

Apparently, he and Victor had run into an out-of-his-mind Mr. Crouch. The man had disappeared for months, with even the Daily Prophet asking questions on his whereabouts; Percy had been forced to answer them, ever insisting that Mr. Crouch was having health troubles and would return as soon as he felt better. Now however, it seemed as if his health troubles included walking around forests in the middle of the night, scaring students out of their wits with warnings of Voldemort's return.

"And I ran back to the school and straight to Dumbledore's office!" Harry could hear Adrian retelling the story Ron and Hermione at the breakfast table; it appeared as the three of them had already gone through the story at least a couple of times by then. The school was already abuzz with news of Victor Krum being injured in the forest last night, but few seemed to have made any connection with Adrian as for yet. Harry turned to look at Neville who was listening into the conversation too.

"And then you ran into professor Snape." Hermione offered, making Harry devise a plan to visit his father as fast as possible. Looking around, he realized Severus wasn't at the staff's table, probably still in his rooms or his office.

"Yes, he told me the password I was trying to use to enter Dumbledore's office had changed and talked to me while we waited for the Headmaster. After Dumbledore arrived, he sent Snape to find Moody and the two of us went back to the forest." Adrian narrated. "Krum was already unconscious and Crouch was nowhere to be seen. We called on Hagrid to follow us and then Karkaroff arrived, calling Dumbledore a saboteur and such…" And then Adrian proceeded to explain how he returned to Hogwarts with Hagrid, stating once again that Crouch was nowhere to be found as much at they looked in the area.

Harry didn't stick around to listen to their theories; he excused himself shortly after and ran towards his father's office. Severus was just about to leave the room when Harry appeared around the corner.

"So, you've already heard." He said, shaking his head. "I was just about to send you a note to meet me during lunch break," the potions master said, motioning to the folded piece of parchment in his hands, "but you beat me to it." He then opened the door to his office, ushering his son in.

"Did you find him then?" Harry asked. "Mr. Crouch, I mean."

"He's nowhere to be found." Severus answered dejectedly. "As if the ground opened up and swallowed him. And it's impossible to follow a magic trail in the Forbidden forest; centaurs have placed magical wards on it and there are so many creatures with their own magic that permanently live there; his presence was almost completely masked. Dumbledore only managed to confirm that he had been at the clearing where Mr Krum was found unconscious."

"And Victor said Crouch attacked him?" Harry pressed on, his expression troubled.

"Yes." Severus stated. "What worries me the most was Crouch's behaviour before he lashed out on Krum though. He seemed as if he had been fighting the Imperius Curse; all have sentences and short intervals of clarity. And he spoke of Voldemort getting stronger and of Martha Jorkins and…"

"Do you think Voldemort kept him under the imperius all these months?" Harry inquired. "Why not just kill him?"

"That, Harry," his father admitted, sighing deeply, "I can not yet answer." The days passed in a blur after that, with the exams starting in the second week of May. Harry took his OWL in Arithmancy that very week, determined to pass it if only to prove to himself that the choice of placing him into the advanced class was justified. He had walked out that classroom smiling wider than most fifth year students that had had taken the exam with him, feeling the results would not disappoint him.

Draco and Neville kept meeting at the library in the evenings, even if it was more for studying for the exams than researching for the task. Still, Harry had made sure his Point Me spell worked excellently and had reviewed anything he could come up with in forms of protective spells and counter-hexes, along with some large scale spells. Better safe than sorry, he had though as always; that was one motto that had saved his life in the past already and he wasn't about to disregard it now.

With the exams keeping him occupied, Harry failed to notice how time passed him by and soon, the morning of the third task had arrived. During breakfast, Draco had left the Slytherin table and came to sit next to Harry, completely disregarding the death glares he received from the Gryffindors. The small part of the Slytherins that reported to his father knew of the supposed plan he had to earn Harry's confidence while the majority of his House didn't care enough to do anything more than roll their eyes at him, having pretty much accepted his friendship with the two Gryffindors. Not that he would care if they hadn't.

After breakfast, the champions where summoned in the same chamber they had gathered after the Goblet of Fire had called out their names to meet with their families that had been called at Hogwarts as special treat for the day. As he passed by the staff's table, Severus smiled at him encouragingly. His father had spent a great part of last night helping him revise on magical creatures and possible curses he might face, only going to sleep when he had judged Harry had reached a point where he would benefit more from a good sleep than any more practicing. Then he had proceeded to assure his son that he would do great no matter what, before sending him to bed, walking him all the way to Gryffindor tower.

What Harry didn't know, of course, was that Severus had then returned to his office and looked over all charms and wards that had been placed to ensure his son's and the other three champions' safety until sunrise. Still, smiling widely as he was, the dark circles under his eyes were almost eclipsed. Harry smiled back just as warmly, before carrying on and into the chamber where his parents were waiting. Along with Remus and Sirius, he noted the moment he opened the door. Adrian had reached them first and was at the moment being hugged from the entire family, worried glances following him as he moved. Harry sighed and greeted his family too.

"Hey there, kiddo!" Sirius exclaimed, rushing forward to wrap his arms around Harry in a bear hug. "How's my godson extraordinaire doing today?" Harry chuckled at his antics, pulling back slightly.

"Oh, you know; excited, elated, ready. A wreck, basically. Pretty much a bunch of emotional debris." The green eyed wizard admitted, making Sirius laugh as he run a hand through his hair.

"Hello, Harry." Lily said, moving towards him to hug him too, being followed by James and Remus. "Are you alright, honey? Can we help with anything?"

"Nah! I'm good, really." Harry assured her, not feeling good in the least. Still, he knew he was ready and nothing they said could aid him at that point. Except if they offered a map to the maze. That would probably do it. They spent the remainder of their time before lunch walking around the castle, Sirius giving Adrian and Harry a very descriptive tour of where he had pranked people during his school years.

"And there, by the doors, I hid a dungbomb that exploded the moment Filtch walked by!" He explained, smiling widely at the memory. "I hadn't even timed it or anything. That was all Filtch!" They were still laughing when they sat down at the table for lunch, greeting Neville when he arrived. It was a few minutes after that when Harry watched Prongs' eyes widen and his smile drop, looking at something over Harry's shoulder. The green eyed wizard was worried for a second until he saw Draco sitting on his left, greeting him and Neville as if the Potters weren't even there, before proceeding to add some food on his plate. The four adults on the table exchanged a look as the students around them held their breaths; Adrian and Ron exchanged self satisfied smirks, the red head even chuckling before his sister elbowed him.

"I believe you're on the wrong table." James stated, his voice tight, earning himself a glare from his youngest son. Draco on his part looked first at him and then at Harry and Neville.

"Is this the Gryffindor table?" He asked slowly, as if he was afraid James wouldn't understand him. Harry's lips twitched; this was going to be good.

"Yes, exactly." James said, as if he had proven his point.

"Where Harry and Neville sit during meals?" Draco asked again. James' eyes narrowed ad he realized he was being mocked.

"Them being Gryffindors, yes." He said, trying to keep his calm.

"Then I'm in the right table." Draco stated, smiling widely. "Thanks for worrying about me though!"

"Don't you think I know what you're up to, Malfoy?" James seethed, his face going slightly red. Lily placed a hand on his shoulder as a warning while the Gryffindors held their collected breaths.

"Prongs!" Harry said warningly.

"Eating lunch, I presume?" Draco continued unfazed, refusing to be intimidated. Neville smiled proudly next to his friend and Harry was aware he was probably wearing a similar expression.

"Listen here!" James hissed. "I know you lot and Malfoys are all bad news!"

"And Blacks are all self-centred bastards, I suppose." Draco added, causing all adults to freeze and look at him wide-eyed, especially Sirius. "My ancestry seems to be preparing me for villainy. By the bye, hello, cousin. It's been a while." And that seemed to completely sidetrack James who had forgotten that one little fact; but Narcissa Malfoy nee Black was indeed Sirius' first cousin and that made Draco his first cousin, once removed. And it was clear, now that Draco and Sirius sat so close to each other that, despite the ash blond hair, Draco shared his cousin's grey eyes, a prone Black characteristic from what Harry had gathered from the paintings he had seen from times to time.

Fred and George started sniggering from a few seats down while Adrian and Ron opened and closed their mouths like fish out of water. Harry could feel his smirk forming, one that turned into a face-splitting grin when Sirius smiled as bright as the sun and said;

"It  _has_  been a while!" The dog animagus agreed. "I blame your father for that."

"Fair enough." Draco stated after a moment of contemplation, shaking his head once in agreement. If possible, Sirius' grin widened and he turned to Remus mouthing "I have another cousin!". Harry chuckled and bumped his shoulder with Draco's; the Slytherin had a soft smile on his face as the silence around the table broke and conversation returned to normal. Well, almost normal; James was still staring at Draco as if he expected him to be under a spell, while Adrian and Ron seemed oddly scared of the blond Slytherin. With all that however, Harry had lost track of time and thus, was quite surprised when Dumbledore spoke next.

"Ladies and gentlemen, in five minutes' time, I will be asking you to make your way down to the Quidditch field for the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament. Will the champions please follow Mr. Bagman down to the stadium now." Harry stood up along with Adrian, the Gryffindor table clapping louder than the rest of the school. Their family and friends wished them luck -Draco and Neville where hollering for Harry to curse the living daylights out of whomever got into his way and he took their advice to heart- and the two champions walked towards the doors of the Great Hall. Harry stopped as he reached the exit and turned to look at his father. Severus was smiling proudly at him and he smiled back, somehow feeling that everything would be alright in the end. He squared his shoulders and started walking along the rest of the champions; he had a tournament to win.

Next to him, Fleur was trembling slightly. Noticing that, Harry moved closer and held her hand, smiling reassuringly at her as they moved closer and closer to the maze. She smiled back and held his hand tighter, her posture relaxing slightly. They walked onto the Quidditch field, which was now completely unrecognizable. A twenty-foot-high hedge ran all the way around the edge of it. There was a gap right in front of them: the entrance to the vast maze. The passage beyond it looked dark and creepy. Harry smiled softly besides everything; this was it.

Five minutes later, the stands had begun to fill; the air was full of excited voices and the rumbling of feet as the hundreds of students filed into their seats. The sky was a deep, clear blue now, and the first stars were starting to appear. Hagrid, Severus, Professor Moody, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Flitwick came walking into the stadium and approached Bagman and the champions. They were wearing large, red, luminous stars on their hats, all except Hagrid, who had his on the back of his moleskin vest and Severus, who had pinned his on the front of his own, pinstriped vest.

"We are going to be patrolling the outside of the maze," said Professor McGonagall to the champions. "If you get into difficulty, and wish to be rescued, send red sparks into the air, and one of us will come and get you, do you understand?" The champions nodded.

"Off you go then!" Bagman exclaimed cheerfully and Harry felt the urge, not for the first time either, to kick him in the shins. Severus, who seemed to be thinking along the same lines, placed a hand on his son's shoulder and squeezed gently, conveying all his love and trust in a simple movement.

"You'll do great, Harry." He assured him as always.

"Thank you, Dad." Harry mouthed, his back to the crowd and fellow champions, Hagrid, who was wishing Adrian good luck hiding them from their eyes. Severus had no trouble reading his son's lips from such a distance. He squeezed his shoulder once more, tears prickling in his eyes a proud smile etched on his lips.

"You'll do great!" Severus repeated and walked towards the rest of the teachers while the four champions walked away in different directions, to station themselves around the maze. Bagman now pointed his wand at his throat, muttered, " _Sonorus_ ," and his magically magnified voice echoed into the stands.

"Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin! Let me remind you how the points currently stand! In first place, with a perfect score of one hundred points, is Mr. Harry Potter of Hogwarts School!" The cheers and applause sent birds from the Forbidden Forest fluttering into the darkening sky. "In second place, with eighty-two points, Mr. Victor Krum, of Durmstrang Institute!" More applause. "In third place, with eighty points, Mr. Adrian Potter, also for Hogwarts!" Roaring applause once more. "And in fourth place, with seventy-eight points, Miss Fleur Delacour, of Beauxbatons Academy!" Harry smiled at Fleur as he too applauded. Fleur turned towards him and hugged him, as the crowd went wild. "So, on my whistle, Mr. Harry Potter!" Bagman announced.

"Three…" Fleur pecked him once on the lips, whispering good luck. "Two…" He smiled at her and whished her the same. "One…" He turned to look towards the stands at Neville and Draco and then towards his father, by the rest of the teachers that would be patrolling the maze, who nodded in encouragement. Bagman gave a short blast on his whistle, and Harry harried forward into the maze.

The towering hedges cast black shadows across the path, and, whether because they were so tall and thick or because they had been enchanted, the sound of the surrounding crowd was silenced the moment they entered the maze. Harry felt almost as though he were underwater again. He pulled out his wand, cast a silent point me spell, knowing the Cup was northwest from his location and then a silent Lumos, before he proceeded. His great difference in points with Victor would give him no more than a minute's head start, so he started walking immediately, his senses on alert. His sensitive hearing was picking up even the minutest sounds in the relative silence and, while extremely helpful, made the maze that much more eerie.

Depending on his senses and the indications from his wand, he kept into course, hearing Bagman's whistle three more times in a window of four minutes. All three champions where in the maze, he realized. Hasting his steps, he took a right, coming face to face with what seemed to be one of Hagrid's Blast-Ended Skrewts; they had grown over ten feet tall and still as slimy as he remembered them. Still, as impressive their armor was, they were no dragons, and, just as one of them tried turning around to scorch Harry while two more rattled their pincers, Harry raised his wand and cast a curse he had prepared just for such an occasion.

" _Ignis Venenosa!_ " He commanded, dark green flames erupting from his wand and sticking onto the Skrewts like parasites; the fact that they produced fire did not make them fireproof, he recalled Hagrid saying, and those flames would only be extinguished when they collapsed. He could have taken the long way around, of course, Harry figured, but he reasoned that avoiding the threats was not the point of the task at all. First and foremost, he wanted to see if he could handle himself in cases as these; he would face whatever walked his way.

In the meantime, right outside the maze, a man was pacing anxiously. Looking over his shoulder the wizard thought to be Mad-Eye Moody, considered his options as he kept pretending to patrol the perimeter. He had worked for this end result for over a year; he had encouraged and cajoled Adrian into using the right spells, giving him books to study and urging him to accept his family's advice when it was given. And the teen had made it all the way to the third task unscathed, just as the Dark Lord wished it.

Barty Crouch Jr., had choreographed the whole tournament to fit his master's need, had spent nine months pretending to be a demented auror and he would be damned if he let things go astray now! He looked towards the maze and grinded his teeth together. He was loath to admit it, but Adrian Potter was good; he had aptitude in spellcasting and his magic was strong. A few more years of training and he would be a force to be reckoned with for certain, just as his parents had been during the war. With his added help, he had thought originally, there would be no trouble for him to reach the Cup first. So, he had followed the plan and had placed the Triwizard Cup, turned portkey in the heart of the maze, just as his master had instructed.

His problem though, was this; Adrian Potter was good. But his twin brother was better. It was unexpected and strange, the twin of the boy who lived to surpass his brother in magic and sense. Perhaps it was that mysterious magic that Adrian was said to hold deep inside him that set him aside; from what Dumbledore said, he had not harnessed it yet. Maybe Harry was but a shadow of what Adrian would one day become. He had been strong enough to temporarily defeat the Dark Lord, after all! But, in almost a year, Barty had not seen something that would indicate that and he had started to worry; he didn't doubt his Lord when he said that Adrian was the boy he needed, the one that had banished him to be the one that brought him back. He was just concerned; the younger Potter twin would annihilate any and every threat this maze contained. There would be little time to keep the other two champions away from the Cup, let alone take out Harry. And that was when Plan B had come to fruition.

The Lord Voldemort needed the boy, Barty had surmised, and the boy he would get. What if he didn't travel by the designated portkey? He just had to be there. It was with such thoughts on his mind that he entered the maze himself, wand in hand. First, it would be the other two champions. Then Adrian. And if the younger Potter reached the cup? Oh well, the Dark Lord would have returned to power by then; Harry Potter would not stand a chance!

As these events took place, Harry kept trekking though the maze. He had so far faced, apart from Hagrid's Skrewts, a boggart, a golden mist that had, literally, turned his world upside down, acromandulas -he knew it! He knew Hagrid would have slipped some in- a chimera and a sphinx. It seemed he had chosen the shortest road possible and it had been riddled with beasts and curses to compensate. Somewhere from his right, he saw red sparks flying towards the sky. He dearly hoped nobody was severely injured but there was nothing he could do but carry on.

Adrian too had seen the red sparks, admittedly closer from where Harry had; close enough to hear Fleur screaming at Krum to stop as he cast the Cruciatus curse on her. The red sparks had flown from her wand just after that, or at least, Adrian thought it had been her wand. He moved in haste, aiming to reach the middle of the maze as fast as he could. Last year had been confusing; first the revelations in the summer and then every other thing his brother did had thrown him in a spin. And then there was the Triwizard Tournament and Voldemort trying to kill him -did the man never learn, Adrian thought smirking. So, even if he hadn't wanted to participate in the tournament, unlike his twin, he had slowly decided to win it. He needed this to remind him of who he was again. He was Adrian Orion Potter, the boy who lived and had been forced into training every day since; he had earned this Cup, he figured.

A sound, much like the one branches made when stepped upon echoed from behind him; Adrian turned around, brandishing his wand, ready to curse whomever he faced. And the one he faced was Victor Krum. The Durmstrang Champion stood motionless for a second, his eyes glazed over, a scratch on his shoulder he completely disregarded and his wand drawn.

"Krum?" Adrian asked. "What in bloody hell are you…" And then Victor cast a stunning spell his way. On instinct, Adrian dove to the side and took cover before the hedges, casting a spell of his own. Seven years of training where kicking in and the two teens exchanged curses, Adrian yelling at Krum to stop all the while. He had managed to injure him on the other shoulder too and once on the leg with cutting hexes, but the other champion carried on, as if the wounds Adrian had caused weren't even there. And he kept getting closer. Suddenly, the curses stopped. Had Krum finally fainted out of blood loss, Adrian wondered. Not impossible; he had been bleeding quite profusely seconds ago.

Another minute passed and curses where heard; Adrian was now certain Krum must have fallen unconscious. He turned around to leave him there but figured he should at least send some red sparks to point out where Krum was; he couldn't leave him bleed out, after all! But he did, curse you and Fleur, a little voice whispered inside his head; maybe he deserves it? Shaking such thought away, he prepared to turn back and signal for help when he felt something being slipped over his head and around his neck. Before he could react, the sensation of being pulled by an invisible hook, right behind his navel overtook him, the world spun out of focus and his eyes involuntarily fell close. When he opened them, it was abundantly clear he no longer was neither in the maze nor in Hogwarts. And if he had nursed any hopes this was part of the task, the form that he saw in the distance extinguished it in a second.

Back in the labyrinth, Harry kept walking. He had heard what sounded like curses a few minutes ago -maybe five or ten? He couldn't quite tell- and then silence. Still there had been no red sparks, so that had to count for something. He had slowly started losing hope of finding the Cup? Had he miscalculated? For he was certain, he had taken the shortest route; he should have reached the center of the maze by now, surely. Just as he was considering he had taken a wrong turn and was ready to recalibrate his position, a light coming from straight ahead caught his attention. There, in what appeared like a small clearing, stood the Triwizard Cup. He blinked once before a huge smile broke into his face and he ran towards it.

It was there and he had made it; he had arrived first! As he stepped into the clearing, he looked around for any traps. He so none and no other champions. He smiled wider and looked back at the Cup. He could feel some sort of enchantment in it, something strong and akin to a… portkey? Immediately, he retracted the hand that had involuntarily reached of the golden cup. A portkey? Why was there a… and then he sighed at his paranoia. Of course a portkey! How was he going to get out of the maze otherwise? Still, it was a portkey; who knew where it led? He stood there for a moment, weighing his options; if he waited long enough, he was certain one of the two remaining champions would eventually arrive and, having less qualms of touching unknown portkeys, they would claim the Cup for their own.

Touching the portkey would mean facing something he might not wish to, with his luck even lethal, on the other side. Still, his choice wasn't really a choice; he had come so far, too far to back down now. Breathing deeply once, he reached out and grabbed the Cup, closing his eyes and leaping into the unknown.

 


	64. Polyandrion

The pulling sensation behind his navel was familiar. The sensation of the world spinning around him was familiar too, Harry thought. The sight that greeted him as he opened his eyes however, was not. He looked around, slightly disorientated and very much confused. He was out in the open, as he had expected, but as his eyes roamed around, his body crouched low, near the ground, wand held tight in his hand, he could easily tell that he had found himself in what appeared to be a cemetery. Despite the trepidation spreading inside him, Harry forced himself to think; he had been training for situations like this one.

He looked back toward the Triwizard Cup, glittering in the moonlight were it had fallen. It was still a portkey, he realized. Maybe this was the final part of the task? He dismissed the thought immediately. He had touched the cup. The tournament was over. And if the cup was still a portkey, Harry realized, filling with dread, that meant that somebody had cast yet another spell on top of the preexisting one; a portkey upon a portkey. The ministry used such portkeys -if only rarely as the magic they required was pretty advanced- for aurors to transport from one place to the next swiftly during missions.

Harry however considered this not to be the case; whoever had made the cup a double portkey, had done so by necessity. If the cup was meant to transport the Triwizard champion back to the entrance of the maze, then Dumbledore would have made certain the charm on it would not be easily broken. And if the one that had placed yet another charm over it didn't care that they had given whoever touched the cup a way back, Harry reached the unsettling conclusion, they did not believe their victim would be able to use it.

His first thought was to grab the cup once again, leave this place and never look back. And right then, as his hand extended towards the silver handle, he froze. This was a trap. One elaborately set up to boot, if it didn't trigger any of the alarms Dumbledore had set up. And it was most definitely not for him. His mind flew immediately to Adrian. His twin that had been entered in the tournament with a specific yet up to this moment unknown purpose. And, by reaching the cup first, he had probably intercepted the plan that had been set in motion at least ten months ago. But if he was here now, with nobody appearing to collect him, where was his twin?

For the first moment since he had arrived at the cemetery, he looked around him carefully; the cemetery looked empty. On his left, he could see the flickering lights of what appeared to be a village in the distance. On his right, there was a small hill. And behind it shone the light of a flickering fire. The direction of the wind changed, coming from over the hill and, along with the expected howling, carried words, the cadence spoken in a terrified, pained voice. And alongside the voice, the wind carried magic; tainted and wrong -so very, very wrong- but powerful magic.

" _B-blood of the enemy . . . forcibly taken . . . you will . . . resurrect your foe."_

Harry's blood froze in his veins. The words were in English, alike any ritual that he had ever heard before but he could taste the magic in the air. Somebody had done it; somebody had managed to write a ritual from scratch and they were using it. A blood, ritual, he realized, grabbing his wand even tighter and running up the hill; his twin was supposed to have touched the cup. He was entered in the tournament for a reason. Somebody was using a blood ritual meant for resurrection, one that required the blood of his foe. Only one person could fill the description.

Harry reached the top of the hill, feeling oddly detached, as if he was looking upon a scene of a grotesque play trough somebody else's eyes. There was a cauldron in the middle of a clearing between the tombstones, filled with a bright, white liquid. A man was writhing next to it, holding what his right hand that had been cut off, bleeding on the ground. And Adrian -Merlin,  _no_ \- was tied on a large, marble tombstone looking on terrified. Before Harry managed to even think about screaming, a white light shot from the cauldron blinding him for a few moments, a large pillar of steam rising with it as the liquid in the cauldron vaporised. Once his vision had cleared enough, he peered down, somehow already aware of what he would see.

Everything was still for a few, short moments. And then, through the mist in front of him, he saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron.

"Robe me," said the high, cold voice from behind the steam, and the man that was previously trembling by the cauldron, sobbing and moaning, still cradling his mutilated arm, scrambled to pick up the black robes from the ground, got to his feet, reached up, and pulled them one-handed over his master's head. The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at the lowered head of Adrian Potter… and Harry, with a distance of only a few feet separating them, stared into the face that had haunted his nightmares since that night at the end of his first year, when he had run after his twin, following him down beneath Hogwarts. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snake's with slits for nostrils.

Lord Voldemort had risen once again.

Disregarding Adrian for the time being, Voldemort turned his attention to his new body as Harry looked on mortified, never having hated his improved eyesight as he did right then. His hands were like large, pale spiders; his long white fingers caressed his own chest, his arms, his face; the red eyes, whose pupils were slits, like a cat's, gleamed still more brightly through the darkness. He held up his hands and flexed the fingers, his expression rapt and exultant. He took not the slightest notice of the short man, who lay twitching and bleeding on the ground, nor of the great snake, which had slithered into sight and was circling around Adrian.

Voldemort slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket and drew out a wand, white as a bone. He caressed it gently too; and then he raised it, and pointed it at the bleeding man, who was lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Adrian was tied; he fell to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying. Harry caught sight of his face, illuminated by the light of the fire and recognised him as Peter Pettigrew, the one also known as Wormtail, the very same wizard that had betrayed his family's trust to Voldemort almost fourteen years ago. The Dark Lord turned his scarlet eyes upon Adrian, laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh.

Harry knew he had to act. Inwardly he knew himself unable to match Voldemort in a duel yet; the Dark Lord was more dangerous than a dragon and much more vicious. Harry's level in duelling surpassed that of a seventh year Hogwarts student and most of the adults he knew. But Voldemort? Was he ready to fight him now, when he seemed to have returned to his former power? No matter what, Harry thought, a strange sense of tranquillity mixed with determination filling him to the core, he couldn't let Adrian there, at the Dark Lord's mercy. If he was to die today, he would go down fighting. Head held high, he fought down the panic and terror and waited for his opportunity to strike. He knew he would only get one.

"Adrian Potter." Voldemort said, his tone mocking. "I have been waiting for this moment for so long and yet, you won't even look at me!" Adrian remained unmoving, his eyes facing the ground. "Come on, Potter!" The Dark Lord spat, his patience running low. "Are you too scared to face me?" Sufficiently incensed, Adrian did just that. Voldemort's red eyes widened as they connected with the hazel gaze of the elder Potter twin. Adrian was hurt and bleeding but returned the gaze unmoving, not catching up on Voldemort's confusion.

" _Crucio!_ " The Dark Lord yelled, and Adrian was screaming before Harry managed to do anything. The spell held on for a few seconds, before Voldemort jabbed his wand forward violently, an invisible force causing Adrian's head to collide with the marble of the tombstone behind him. The screams stopped as he lay there unmoving. Harry gasped, his eyes filling with tears as he hoped Adrian had simply fainted.  _Please let him be alright… Please!_

"You!" Voldemort called, turning to Wormtail. "What is the name of this boy? Who did you bring me?" He bellowed.

"Adrian Potter, my Lord!" Wormtail squealed, extending the bleeding stump that was his hand towards his master. "I did all you asked! Mercy, my Lord!"

"This," Voldemort screamed, pointing at the unconscious teen, ignoring Wormtail's pleas, " _this_  is Adrian Potter?"

"Yes, my Lord!" Wormtail said, as Voldemort screamed, the terrible sound leaving his mouth and resonating around the cemetery.

"If this is Adrian Potter," the Dark Lord asked, grabbing the sobbing mess of a wizard from the collar of his robes, "then who is the boy with the green eyes? Who is the wretched boy that caused my fall?" Harry froze; his eyes. Voldemort had seen his eyes and he remembered, he thought, as he prepared himself; he had to get closer. He had to reach Adrian. He walked silently, hidden in the shadows cast by the fire, behind tombstones, every step bringing him closer to a confrontation fourteen years in the making.

"G-green eyes?" Wormtail stuttered, not quite understanding what his master asked of him. " _Harry_  Potter, my Lord?" At the sound of Harry's name, Voldemort let go of Wormtail, the man whimpering as he collapsed on the floor once more, left hand trying to stop the bleeding on his right. Harry new he could come no closer without notifying Voldemort of his presence. Trying to free his twin from his bonds would do just the same and besides, Adrian was in no position to run.

"Harry Potter?" Voldemort muttered, his eyes trailing on the unmoving form of the boy he had thought had caused his downfall, the boy he had hated and hunted for the past fourteen years.

"You called?" Harry asked, forcing his voice to sound nonchalant, as he stepped away from the tombstone he was hiding behind. He had already marked the broken tombstones and fallen logs he could use as a physical shield from the killing curse. What the hell am I even doing, he wondered as wide, red eyes met his.

" _You_!" Voldemort screamed and, not one to disappoint, hurled the killing curse at his intended victim. A minute flick of Harry's wand had a large tombstone flying in the course of the curse, sufficiently blocking it, a great chunk of it turning into rubble in the process.

"Tempter, temper." Harry cautioned, feeling slightly suicidal, still knowing that a shocked Voldemort was his twin's best ticket out of this situation. "And yes, me. You finally figured it out."

"You knew!" Voldemort accused him, voice disbelieving, his wand never wavering.

"Oh, yes." Harry stated, a smirk blooming on his lips. "For quite some time now."

"And you told no one?" The Dark Lord enquired. The large snake he had seen before was now looking intently at Harry, sensing its master's anger towards the boy.

" _Shall, I kill him, master?_ " The snake asked, beady eyes never leaving Harry's face.

" _I would rather you did not._ " Harry hissed back, his own eyes trained on Voldemort. The Dark Lord's eyes widened even more as he started at his new, unexpected opponent.

"A speaker!" He exclaimed, looking at the green eyes of his foe.

"Shocking, I know." Harry said, trying his hardest to stop his hand from shaking. "And a Gryffindor to boot, would you look at that?"

"You think this is a game, boy?" Voldemort yelled, looking completely deranged and every bit the part of the most terrifying Dark Lord in recent history.

"If it was, would I be winning?" Harry taunted, causing Voldmort to yell yet another killing curse his way. The log he used to stop it exploded upon impact, splinters flying towards every direction. Some reached Wormtail who wailed in pain. A few touched Adrian, his hand twitching, his brow furrowing, though he didn't wake up. At least he's alive, Harry thought, that realization enough to help him stand his ground just a bit longer.

"It was  _you_! You, all along!" The Dark Lord shouted. "You thought you could play everyone, Potter? What did you wish to accomplish?"

"You can't fool those that choose to be blinded by their own free will." Harry stated, taking a step to the left towards his twin; his efforts spurred Voldemort into action.

" _Crucio!_ " The Dark Lord commanded. The protective shield Harry conjured up was enough to stop the curse, making his response seem effortless despite his fear. He was well aware that all that stood between Voldemort's current attempts at fighting and a full blown duel was the Dark Lord's surprise and curiosity. The very moment Voldemort deemed he had enough, all bets were off. "Was it you then," Voldemort asked, confirming Harry's theory that the Dark Lord was merely weighing him before he attacked, "three years ago?"

"The one that stopped you from getting the Philosopher's Stone?" Harry clarified, taking yet another step closer to his brother, subsequently blocking one more Cruciatus curse. "Did you think that Adrian stopped you then? Adrian, who lay unconscious on the floor? No, it was me."

"Yet, you remain in the shadows." Voldemort stated, considering his opponent. "Don't you wish for recognition, Harry?" So, is it Harry now? The green eyed wizard remembered what he had seen of Adrian's first confrontation with Voldemort; the Dark Lord had tried to entice his twin then, try to get him on his side, even if it was to kill him right afterwards. "You could be great, Harry! Join me and…"

"…and disregard your attempts to kill me and my family?" Harry interrupted him. "Forget even, that very prophecy that forced your hand all those years ago?" And as Voldemort's eyes widened in terror, Harry realized he suddenly had the upper hand. His father had told him Voldemort had only heard the first part of the curse but Harry hadn't understood just how much it had scared the man. Or maybe it was the fact that he didn't know the complete prophecy, Harry mused, as Voldemort started at him unblinking, that terrified him. He decided to test his theory. "But I forgot! You haven't even heard the complete prophecy, have you?"

"And you have? Do you think me a fool, Potter?" Voldemort asked.

"I happen to have heard it, yes." Harry stated, pushing back the sudden invasion of his mind, his knees almost buckling at the effort. "Ah-ah! No peeking!" He admonished as Voldemort yelled and jabbed his wand forward.

" _Eviscero!_ " He shouted, sending a powerful, disembowelment curse towards Harry.

" _Reverbero!_ " Harry commanded, Voldemort's curse rebounding on the bright red shield he conjured and back to its owner that easily blocked it.

"You think you can defeat me, Potter?" The Dark Lord taunted, changing tactics. "You think you can simply walk out of here?"

"That was the plan." Harry stated, measuring the distance between him and his twin. He was only ten, maybe eleven feet away. He knew Voldemort would not allow him to approach any further and the game he was playing was dangerous enough already. Walking out of the cemetery in one piece was indeed the plan. If he wanted to leave with Adrian, he knew his best way out would be the Triwizard cup that still lay behind the hill. Help could only be found at Hogwarts and that was the one place where he could not apparate to.

"And what of your bother?" Voldemort persisted. "Are you going to run and leave him to die?"

"You honestly assume that, if I had simply wanted to run, we'd be having this conversation?" Harry deadpanned, knowing his time was running short. And then he saw it, right behind Voldemort; a fallen log. Always pay attention to your surroundings, his father's voice echoed in his head.

"Bravery of a Gryffindor? How… quaint." The Dark Lord mocked him. "You're going to die tonight, Harry Potter. And so will your brother."

"Care to make a bet?" The green eyed wizard asked, flicking his wand slightly; Voldemort immediately cast a powerful shield that, even though more than capable to protect him from a spell Harry might have hurled at him, did nothing to stop the log that hit him on the back of his knees, causing him to lose his balance. Not wasting a single second, he turned his wand towards the ground.

" _Terra Rejicio!_ " He exclaimed, a bright green light flashing from his wand and onto the ground; and the ground exploded. Debris, dirt and rocks flew from the ground in a twelve feet radius, surging towards the Dark Lord, pushing him backwards and covering the surrounding area in a cloud of dust. He repeated the spell two more times as he run towards his twin, knowing that, in all probability, it wouldn't harm Voldemort; he had seen him cast yet another shield as the first spell made impact and the worst he could have gotten were a few scratches. But what the spell would do, was hide him from sight, even for a little while.

Reaching the tombstone, he quickly broke his twin free of his bonds; not seeing a better alternative, he wrapped his left hand under his arms and around his torso and dragged him backwards, behind a bigger gravestone. Voldemort had sent a few curses from inside the dust cloud but had done nothing to disperse it as of yet; Harry didn't even bother fooling himself that he had injured him. The Dark Lord probably had a plan that he wouldn't like. Looking around him furtively and making sure the coast was, for the moment, clear, he turned his attention towards his twin.

Adrian was still unconscious, his head lolling to the side, but he was breathing. Harry felt something warm as he touched the back of his twin's head and he knew it was blood even before he saw it painting his hands. His twin's blood looked black in the moonlight and Harry's hand clenched to a fist in pure fury. He didn't dare try to heal a head wound without properly examining it first and -besides the fact of not being an expert in the first place- there was no time to do anything of the sort.

Voldemort was still hiding in the dwindling dust and Harry knew they had to move before whatever he was planning was put into action. Having informed him that he had heard the prophecy in its entirety had probably ensured he was to be captured alive, even if it was to be tortured for information later on. But Adrian had lost his value the moment the ritual was completed. And that was  _before_  Voldemort realized he wasn't the true Boy Who Lived. They had to leave and leave fast. With that thought in mind, Harry did something he would have normally avoided, were the circumstances less pressing.

" _Enervate!_ " He mumbled, his wand pointed at his twin. Adrian's eyes snapped open in a second and then he winced. He blinked twice sluggishly and tried to focus his gaze on his twin, clearly not having yet understood the situation he had found himself in.

"Harry, what… Voldemort!" Adrian exclaimed, the memories of the past hour flooding back into his head. He tried to stand up and winced again, feeling dizzy and in pain.

"Adrian, listen to me!" Harry implored, his voice barely more than a whisper. Adrian's frantic eyes turned to him, his gaze unfocused; he probably had a concussion, Harry realised, inwardly cursing his bad luck. "Voldemort is here. We have to leave! There's a portkey right behind this hill." He explained, pointing at the hill he had climbed down to reach his twin. "It's the Triwizard Cup; we have to reach it, do you understand?" Adrian nodded once, reaching towards his pocket.

"My wand! It's gone!" He exclaimed.

" _Accio_ , Adrian's wand!" Harry mumbled, catching his twin's wand as it flew towards him before placing it in Adrian's hand, closing his fingers around it. The hazel eyed Potter's head had cleared slightly and he was feeling more and more scared as he understood what they would have to do; going up that hill would make them clear targets for Voldemort who wouldn't hesitate to curse them the moment his eyes fell on them.

"Harry…" Adrian began, his face paling. Whether it was from the loss of blood or out of pure terror, Harry couldn't tell.

"We have to go!" He insisted, green eyes determined. "Keep your wand at hand and start walking! We'll use the tombstones for cover. Move!" Adrian nodded and did as instructed. And just as Harry hoped that maybe he had injured Voldemort after all, he felt it. His senses were already on alert and there was no confusing the magical signatures that appeared, seemingly out of nowhere in the graveyard.

The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks. Between graves, behind the yew tree barely visible in the distance, in every shadowy space, wizards were apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. The Dark Lord had summoned his Death Eaters and the Death Eaters had come. Harry urged Adrian forward and behind yet another tombstone a little higher up the hill; he could now see Voldemort's shape in the settling dust. He was looking upon his followers that bowed before him, brandishing his wand right and left. At his feet lay Wormtail, unmoving and silent.

"Master…" A man spoke in a reverent, worshipful tone.

"Silence!" The Dark Lord cried out. "The Potter twins are here! They are to be taken alive! Whoever catches them will be rewarded!" So he wouldn't take any chances without having complete knowledge of the prophecy, Harry figured, at least not that soon after he had regained his body.

"Move, Adrian." He whispered and pushed his twin towards the direction of the nearest headstone -a large, marble angel, half covered with moss- further up the cliff. The Death Eaters, still awestruck by the return of their master and their abrupt return to service, had started to move, looking around the cemetery.

"We are not playing hide-and-seek, Harry," said Voldemort's soft, cold voice, drawing nearer, the Dark Lord having started to look for them himself. "How far do you think you can go, carrying your brother?" Harry knew Voldemort's words held some truth in them. Adrian was no longer unconscious but he wouldn't be able to do much in a fight at the moment, not with his injury. And the graveyard was filled with Death Eaters, all searching for them, aiming not to kill but having received no order not to hurt or maim. And the next possible place to take cover was a willow tree, a good ten feet away from their current hiding place. They would be seen, Harry realised. And if they staid put, they would be found. What choice was there?

"On my mark, run for that willow tree." He whispered to Adrian, his heartbeat sounding like the beating of a hundred drums in his ears. What choice is there, he asked himself one last time, before he nodded to his twin. Adrian gulped but nodded back. "Now!" Harry commanded, jumping from behind the marble angel first, his wand pointed at the approaching group of Death Eaters.

" _Arcus Flammeum!_ " The silent spell erupted from his wand as a small arc of bright orange flames, deploying as it flew towards the Death Eaters that were still marching in a close group. Curse and hexes were shouted their way, mercifully missing as they had caught the Death Eaters by surprise. Harry knew such a trick could not work a second time, not now that Voldemort knew where they were hidden.

"You have nowhere to run!" The Dark Lord exclaimed, shouting over the screams of his followers.

"Keep running and make sure to keep a shield up." Harry said to his twin, choosing to ignore Voldemort's comments the best he could. If he was to die tonight, he wouldn't go without a fight and definitely not terrified by the taunts of a man he had been trained to face since he was seven. And if he survived, he thought wistfully as he pointed the next tombstone to Adrian, he would have time for a mental breakdown later on. "Go!" He commanded, putting up a shield of his own this time. His choice proved wise; the Death Eaters, knowing were they were hidden this time, had been waiting for them to emerge, enraged by the injuries a fourteen year-old teen had caused them.

A colourful array of spells and curses reverberated on his shield, the physical impact on his body becoming more pronounced with every impact. The shield held well, Harry had to admit, covering both his twin and himself, even if he could swear his shoulder was in the verge of dislocating. If he had kept the shield just to himself, the physical strain would be reduced significantly, but he had seen the shield Adrian had managed to produce. It was a miracle he had even managed to cast the spell in the first place, considering his condition; but the shield that he had conjured would give in after a well placed curse.

"Break the tombstones!" Voldemort ordered, sending a curse to the one the Potter twins had taken refuge behind. "Get them out in the open!"

"Adrian, run!" Harry instructed, knowing the strategy he had followed so far would no longer work. "Run as fast as you can!" And Adrian did. Harry stepped between him and their pursuers, this time having no plan to speak of. He was purely led by his will to live, the determination to protect his twin. Adrian turned his back on the approaching wizards and ran. Harry however, upon facing the Death Eaters and Voldemort, recalled the instructions his father had given him back when he had first started duelling;

" _Never turn your back to your opponent."_  Severus had told his then eight years old son.

" _Not even if I'm being chased?"_  Harry had asked, his green eyed alight with curiosity.

" _Especially if you're being chased; giving your pursuers a clear sight of your back, while being unable to defend yourself, facing away from them as you will be, is the surest way of getting hit."_  The potions master had admonished.  _"That's an important lesson I learned during the war; no matter how scared you may be, don't turn your back to your opponents."_  He had added and rubbed his back absentmindedly. Harry had then remembered a day earlier in the summer, when they had gone swimming in the lake; didn't his father have some scars there? He had wanted to ask him then, how he had gotten his scars, but a simple look in his father's eyes had been enough to stop the words from forming. He had simply nodded and taken the lesson to heat. And now the time had come to use it.

He started casting spells and curses in rapid succession, alternating between defensive and offensive magic, all the while retreating steadily towards the hilltop. The Death Eaters didn't hold anything back; the cruciatus curse was a favourite, but so where curses that did not kill on impact but were perfectly capable to critically wound their target.

" _Praetrunco_ _Iugis!_ " Harry shouted, sending a flurry of severing hexes towards the Death Eater line. Several connected and one in specific caught a hulking Death Eater on the leg. He went down screaming and Harry was certain he had lost the appendage altogether. An angry yell broke through the night as Voldemort pointed his wand towards Harry; a bright silver spell erupted from it towards the two teens and Harry only had a second to glance over his shoulder and gauge his twin's position before he cast a shielding spell. Adrian was twenty feet further up, almost at the top of the hill, and had absolutely no idea what was coming their way. Voldemort's spell connected with the ground right in front of Harry's shield, not a moment after he had cast it.

The ground shook and cracked, headstones, trees and rocks exploding as if hit by an explosion. Harry's shield spread high up and wide enough to cover both himself and his twin; but, with the added expanse he had required his magic to cover and the hasty way in which the spell was executed had clear effects on it. No part of the actual spell broke through the shield, the fire that the trees and grass had caught upon impact not touching the ground behind the translucent, red shield. The shrapnel however, were a different story altogether.

A tombstone on Harry's left had exploded, sharp, marble pieces flying around in high speed. Some, the shield managed to stop. Some, it didn't. Harry felt searing hot pain on his left side as pieces of marble pierced his skin like daggers. He gasped as he felt them penetrate his skin, from his shoulder to the his palm and some on his face and torso. Most of them, sharp as they were, were only small pieces. Yet one large fragment managed to catch him on the side; the resulting sickening, cracking sound and the burst of scorching pain that spread around the wound clearly signalled a broken rib. Perhaps two, Harry figured, left hand clutching his side. A yelp sounded from behind him and, in the chaos that followed Voldemort's spell, Harry chanced a look at his twin; Adrian had been sufficiently protected by the shield but, being further away, had been pushed back and onto the ground.

Bright, hot fury bubbled inside Harry, the pain from his wounds only serving to intensify it. He held his wand tightly and pointed it towards the Death Eaters and Voldemort who were still approaching them, advancing though the rubble and the flames.

" _Lacero Fragmentus!_ " He bellowed, the dark red beam that left his wand colliding with the ground. It was a large scale spell, used to tear rocks and ground from the walls of tunnels when mining; Harry had happened upon it while researching for his first task on the tournament but had found no use for it; until now. It was as if the surface of the cemetery was scrapped clean, the debris that remained from Voldemort's curse being swept backwards along with a great amount of the actual ground, the spell leaving nothing behind. Everything that had been left standing was torn asunder at the wake of Harry's curse, creating a large wall of dirt and rock that hit the Death Eaters with all the force of a storm.

Not waiting to see the result of his curse, Harry rushed to his brother, wrapping his injured arm around his waist, helping him up. They started climbing down the hill, towards the cup that still lay where Harry had left it, softly gleaming in the moonlight. Voldemort's cry of rage sounded from behind them and Harry pointed his wand towards the cup, just as a menacing shape rose from the ground and up into the air, flying through the cloud of dust and towards the two boys.

" _Accio_!" He thought pointing at the cup, holding his twin even tighter to him, ignoring the sharp pain. The silver cup flew towards him and Harry caught it by the handle. As he felt the jerk behind his navel that meant the portkey had worked, he could see Voldemort gliding over them, poised to strike. For the fraction of a second, emerald green eyes locked into crimson ones; this wouldn't be the last time they fought.

With Voldemort's scream of fury accompanying them, the two Potters let themselves be driven to safety by the portkey, their world changing momentarily into one of wind and colour. And as they landed unceremoniously on the ground, facing what unquestionably were the stands set up for the students that had been gathered to watch the task, Harry allowed himself a deep breath. His head was reeling and his senses were still on overdrive as he searched for his father's face in the group of the approaching witches and wizards. And as the audience cheered, still blissfully unaware of how their world had changed over the past hour, he absentmindedly thought that -after failing to stop Voldemort from returning- he had never deserved their applause less.

 


	65. The Fallout

It had been three hours, twenty-seven minutes and a twelve seconds exactly since Harry had stepped into the maze; Severus knew that for a fact. He had felt every second that passed tearing down the walls he had built in his mind to protect whatever semblance of sanity he had left. And he had been checking his watch approximately every two minutes, of course.

"You need to calm down, Severus." Minerva McGonagall advised, looking at the potions master over her glasses. The two were in the group patrolling the eastern side of the maze, making certain any efforts to sabotage or cheat would be swiftly thwarted.

"I am calm, honestly." Severus assured her, not believing himself anymore than the Transfiguration professor did. He had been on constant alert since the beginning of the task and had been actively fighting off a coronary since an hour ago; the bright red sparks that had risen from the maze had almost been the end of him. A pang of guilt had accompanied his immense relief when he saw Fleur being carried out of the maze; the girl had received a head injury and was still unconscious -Madam Pomfrey had had her moved to the infirmary but refused to wake her up before examining her further due to the nature of her injury- but otherwise unharmed. And she wasn't Harry. That, at least, meant his son was still in fighting form and that each step he took led him closer to the cup and to the end of that infernal tournament.

"Severus, you used to be my student, if you can recall; I can easily tell when you're lying!" Minerva insisted. Severus smiled softly and shrugged.

"Allow me to try to convince myself." He said, his eyes trailing towards the tall hedges once more.

"Since I can see it's not succeeding, I'm going to try and keep you occupied." She offered, causing Severus to chuckle humourlessly.

"You may certainly try!" His eyes were still sneaking glances towards the maze on his left, as if Harry was about to step out from amongst the branches, just to assure him he was fine, before returning to his task.

"You truly do worry about Harry." She stated. Severus smiled the first honest smile since Harry had entered the labyrinth.

"Of course." He answered simply. "I raised him, Minerva." Severus continued, not feeling the pressing weight of the past years when the subject of his relationship with Harry was brought up. He turned his gaze on her, their eyes locking. "I could not -I would not- have loved him more was he my biological son." The Head of Gryffindor House looked momentarily taken aback at the statement, but soon found her composure.

"Good." She stated and nodded her head once, decisively. "Harry is a brilliant young man. I have long been afraid he would eventually drown in his brother's shadow. Last year has proven me wrong, of course." Severus cocked an eyebrow at her admission; not a woman that minced her words, Minerva McGonagall.

"I happen to agree." Severus offered, his smile somewhat tentative -he wasn't yet used to talking openly about Harry, his urge to protect his son as strong as ever, even when he rationally knew he didn't need the protection- but genuine. "He  _is_  a brilliant young man."

"As I said, last year has proven my fears without base." She nodded once to herself. "No child should feel stifled; especially one with so much talent." She was mostly talking to herself at that point, Severus noted. Over the years he had spent as a Hogwarts teacher, he had caught bits and pieces of Minerva's past. He had been around when her husband had died and he had spoken with her brothers once or twice. It seemed as if she had had a difficult childhood, from what he had heard; still, he respected the woman far too much to ever ask. If she wanted to share, fine. If she didn't, well, fine once more. Severus himself knew that some things were meant to be private and to be kept that way; his own childhood, of course, being an example.

The stands appeared in front of them after the next turn, as they completed their seventh round for the evening. The spectators were sitting at the edges of their seats, anxious to see what was happening inside the maze; not for the first time, Severus wondered who's brilliant idea had it been to have everything that happened inside the maze completely obscured from the audience. From the whole Triwizard Tournament, only the First Task could be considered spectator-friendly -the term "friendly" being used very lightly, of course, as he, for example, had been hyperventilating the whole time- the other two offering no spectacle whatsoever. First the lake and now this; at least the time frame given in the Second Task had kept things moderated. But three hours and a half hours into the Third Task, everybody had started to get a bit paranoid with what was happening inside the maze, the potions master first and foremost.

"Who's idea was it to block the Third Task from view?" Severus muttered, asking nobody in particular.

"The Ministry's, I believe. Albus had a meeting with Bagman and Fudge during the Easter holidays for that matter exactly. They believed that, should the audience be allowed to see what's happening in the maze, it would be that much easier to interfere with the task. This way it's just the champions, doing their best." Minerva answered, as she nodded to Filius Flitwick who had just completed his rounds with Pomona Sprout at the western side of the maze. "From what Albus told me, it was the on thing Moody agreed with from the whole meeting."

"Moody?" The potions master asked. He had heard of the meeting, but hadn't realised it had been about the third task at the time; Fudge asked for Dumbledore's advice for all sorts of things after all. But what did Moody have to do with anything?

"When Alastor found out the meeting would be about the Third Task he was adamant he should accompany Albus. You know how he is; he was certain the champions would be attack in front of the whole school, I'm sure!" McGonagall exclaimed, her nostrils flaring at the absurdity of it all. Severus, who wasn't much inclined to feel reassured that Harry wasn't in danger just because there were people watching, allowed his inner pessimist to run free; just because the spectators were there didn't mean that the champions were safe. And, while hiding the champions from plain sight would keep them safe from threats originating from outside the maze, it simultaneously made them that more vulnerable to threats from inside the labyrinth.

One terrible scenario followed the other in his mind as the potions master walked towards the desk that had been set up specifically for the professors that would be patrolling during the Third Task; it was located in front of the stands, right a cross the maze and held pitchers of water on it. Severus found himself in need of some water at least, his throat dry. Three hours and thirty-two minutes after his son had entered the maze, Severus Snape found himself leaning back on a table, trying to ignore the whispering of the crowd behind him that speculated what the champions where up to at the moment, sipping some water in a vain attempt to calm his nerves.

Three hours, thirty-two minutes and ten seconds later, the glass he had been holding had slipped from his fingers and shuttered into pieces on the ground as he run forward towards his son; Harry had appeared suddenly in front of the maze, the Triwizard Cup in one hand and his twin wrapped tightly in the other. The crowd cheered loudly, chanting Harry's name over and over. The sound boomed, roared angrily, and almost threw Severus off balance as he advanced towards his son.

There was blood on Harry's face, and on the arm draped over his twin's shoulder; his robe was torn and he looked dirty and rumpled. Severus would have thought it to be the result of many hours inside the maze and whichever Merlin forsaken creatures the Ministry had populated it with hadn't it been for the look in his son's eyes. Harry looked broken and scared, his eyes glazed over, his stare empty. Something had gone terribly wrong, the potions master realized, running that much faster. Somewhere behind him he could hear James' voice calling for Adrian and Harry, but he paid him no mind.

He reached Harry and fell on his knees in front of him, their eyes on the same level, looking him over for any injuries; and he found many. Scrapes and bruises aplenty and a wound -or maybe more, Merlin no, were they really  _more_?- on his side that soaked his robes with dark blood that was already trailing down his side and pooling on the ground beneath him. He tentatively reached for his son, just as James fell on his knees next to him, grabbing Adrian from Harry's hands, leaving his younger son staggering; Severus caught him gently and cradled him close to his chest, his mind frozen in terror. There were tears running down his face but he neither cared enough to stop them nor had the power to do so had he so willed it.

"Adrian!" James called next to him, having found his voice. "Adrian, are you alright? What happened?"

"Harry?" Severus asked softly, wiping a few tears that had fallen from his son's eyes. "Harry, can you talk to me?" Emerald eyes turned on black, still void of any emotion; his pupils were dilated, out of shock or blood loss, Severus couldn't tell.

"I'm so sorry." Harry muttered, before fainting.

"Harry?" Severus asked, checking his son for a pulse, feeling on the verge of panicking. He found it, finally, and breathed in a chocked breath, cradling his son closer; he had to get him to the infirmary immediately.

"Adrian, Harry?" Lily's voice sounded from over his shoulder. "Are they alright?"

"Out of my way!" Madam Pomfrey's voice came from next to him. "These boys need to be transported to the hospital wing!" Not needing any more encouragement, Severus rose to his full height, carefully carrying his son in his arms; Harry was tall and much heavier than he had been the last time Severus had carried him anywhere, but that didn't matter in the least. Adrian was standing up next to him, supported by his mother, while James turned his attention to his younger son.

"Snape, I can…" He began, extending his arms to motion Severus to hand Harry over.

"Don't you even dare, Potter." The potions master snarled. The words had been uttered with such conviction, the potions master's eyes looking so cold when as his spoke, his voice so menacing, James' hands simply fell limp by his sides as he took a step backwards.

"What happened?" Sirius asked, coming closer to the two teens yet, his own gaze trained, not surprisingly, to his godson; Harry was unconscious, he noticed and Severus seemed intent to carry him all the way to Hogwarts. Some part of him had wanted to demand him to be handed over to James but, seeing the look on Severus' face and remembering that James had turned to Adrian first yet again -as he had always done- had caused him to hold back his tongue.

"That's not important right now!" Dumbledore exclaimed, his tone authoritative over the ever rising voices from the stands, his eyes trailed on the bleeding cut on Adrian's forearm. "Adrian and Harry need to be transported to the hospital wing this instance!" Severus couldn't agree more. The trek to the castle -more like a sprint, if anything- passed by in a blur. The potions master led the way, followed closely by Madam Pomfrey, McGonagall, Dumbledore and the Potters.

Adrian was barely conscious himself so they still had not managed to find out exactly what had happened in the maze that had injured the two teens so; Severus knew it had to be something far worse than the monsters and enchantments that lurked in the labyrinth. He had read and reread the lists of what the maze was to include so many times he had learned them by heart; there was nothing in there that Harry would be unable to face. Yet the injuries he had sustained claimed otherwise. And he had apologized, Severus remembered, feeling more and more scared as Harry's blood seeped through his clothes.

Inwardly he pleaded Harry, prayed to anyone that would hear him for his son to be alright. He flew up the Grand staircase, all seven floors to the infirmary and burst through the doors, carefully placing his son to the bed Madam Pomfrey pointed at. Adrian was slowly lowered to the bed next to Harry, swiftly being examined by the nurse. He seemed to have a mild concussion to go along with his scrapes and bruises and he was given a potion for it as Madam Pomfrey turned her attention to Harry.

"Merlin's beard!" She exclaimed after she cut of the already beyond saving robes from Harry's torso. Severus gasped, fresh tears coming to his eyes at the sight. Pieces of what appeared to be rock was embedded into Harry's body, his left side almost completely covered in them. The wounds where many and still bleeding as Madame Pomfrey ran around the room gathering the things she would need.

"I don't understand." Said Remus, the first one in the room to recover from the shock. "What did he face in the maze that has the power to do this?"

"There was nothing in that maze, I assure you," Dumbledore said, "…that could possibly have…"

"Voldemort." Adrian interrupted speaking for the first time since he had stepped out the maze, his eyes facing the ceiling of the room. "Voldemort's back." He had only spared a glance towards his twin before turning his attention to nothing in specific the moment Harry's wounds had been revealed.

"What?" James asked, his face a deathly shade of white. Severus could hear a distinct buzzing in his ears, feeling somewhat faint. Voldemort had risen again.

"While I was in the maze, I heard shouting and the sounds of a duel…" And Adrian proceeded to explain how he had heard Fleur and Krum fight and how he had duelled with the Durmstrang champion himself. "I was turning around to cast some red sparks so that somebody would come and pick Victor up," the hazel eyed teen explained, wincing slightly as he tried to keep his headache at bay, his voice slightly slurred "when somebody slipped a pendant around my neck. I didn't have time to turn and see who it was. Next thing I knew, I was in a graveyard."

"A graveyard?" Lily asked, looking scared and slightly lost. Her eyes trailed from Adrian to Harry and back as she winced every time Madam Pomfrey pulled a stone fragment from Harry's wounds with her wand to place it in a metallic basin she had brought. The sound the stone made when connecting with the metallic basin would haunt Severus for many years to come. The potions master clutched his son's uninjured hand, his eyes never leaving him even as he listened to the story.

"A man approached me." Adrian carried on, his eyes slightly unfocused. "He was holding something in his hands; some type of a bundle, I figured. It took me all but a minute to understand it was Wormtail." Lily gasped, bringing a hand to cover her mouth. James cursed and Albus nodded, as if he had expected Wormtail to somehow feature in the narration of that night's events.

"And what happened then, Adrian?" The Headmaster asked, his face looking more tired than Severus ever remembered it to be. The lines on his forehead seemed deeper, his eyes looked dull and his lips where shaped into a frown; Dumbledore, for once, looked older than his actual age.

"Wormtail caught me by surprise and disarmed me; I was bound to a tombstone… the name on it was "Tom Riddle"… Voldemort was there, he looked like an infant… a monster… then there was a spell of some sort and a potion. Wormtail placed Voldemort in a cauldron… he took bones from the grave and cut me and then he… cut his own hand off." Adrian's voice cracked and he had to stop for a moment as he breathed in deeply, on the verge of a panic attack. His mother rubbed comforting circles on his back, crying silent tears next to him. "And Voldemort rose from the cauldron… he wanted me to look him in the eyes when he killed me and when I did, he crucioed me. I fainted." The hazel eyed teen said, his voice hollow, his body shivering. Lily moved forward to better fix the covers around him, her fingers trailing through her son's hair. Lily's green eyes left Adrian and turned to Harry, her gaze darkening further.

"And Harry? What happened to Harry?" She mouthed, her voice failing her. The clinking sound of stone falling on metal carried on as the pieces of what Severus recognised as marble flew from Harry's wound and landed inside the basin, guided there by Madam Pomfrey's wand. The nurse was cleaning his wound carefully, pouring on it a yellow potion Severus recognised as antiseptic.

"When I woke up again, he was there." Adrian explained as Albus approached him with a pain relief potion Severus had brewed for the infirmary two weeks ago; the teen seemed to need it since he winced every time he as much as breathed. "It's all a blur… he had untied me, I think, and carried me away. There was dust and Voldemort screamed that Harry couldn't run from him while carrying me. Then Harry told me to move, hide behind the tombstones as we went. The Cup was a portkey… I think that's how he got there?" He stopped and gripped his head, closing his eyes tightly. "I'm dizzy. It hurts." Adrian whispered as Dumbledore handed him the potion.

"Drink this, my boy. It'll help." Adrian nodded and accepted the goblet from the Headmaster. "Slowly now." The old wizard admonished as Adrian slowly took a few gulps from the potion.

"Adrian." Sirius caught the teen's attention. "Do you remember anything else? How did Harry get injured?" The hazel eyed twin lay further back into the pillows of the bed.

"I don't remember much." Adrian admitted. "The Death Eaters were suddenly there and Harry told me to run for the Cup. He fought them. There was an explosion and I fell." Adrian said, his eyes filling with tears as the fear he had felt returned tenfold, overcoming the shocked numbness that had set in upon returning to Hogwarts. "Harry was there a few moments later. He picked me up and summoned the Cup. Voldemort was there; he almost… he…" And Adrian broke down, shuddering sobs causing his whole body to shake.

"Albus, give the boy a sleeping potion." Madam Pomfrey ordered, her own voice shaking. The woman looked pale but kept tending to Harry, the task at hand seemingly all that prevented her from panicking. The Headmaster nodded and pulled out his wand to summon the desired potion. Adrian drank it slowly and soon fell into a magical induced sleep, his breath evening out.

"How can he be back, Albus?" Asked Minerva from where she stood by the corner of the room. She was using the wall to support herself, her lips trembling. That seemed to be the answer everybody wanted to ask. Severus smoothed down his son's unruly hair, not caring that the Potters were there in the same room; his brave boy, facing the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters on his own, to save the life of his twin. He could have simply run away, grabbed the Cup and be off, the potions master knew that. But he had chosen not to, because that was who Harry was.

"It seems he used some sort of ritual." Dumbledore stated, falling onto the chair he had vacated to give Adrian his potion. "The tomb must have been his father's but other than that, I can not explain what happened. Not from what Adrian has told us." James hid his face in his hands as Lily quietly cried next to him. Remus looked lost, while Sirius' eyes landed on his godson.

"Harry saved Adrian's life." He stated. The collective glance of the people in the room fell on the unconscious teen -except Severus' who had never him- and there it staid as the school's nurse cast the spell needed for magical stitches on the wounds.

"Harry has two cracked ribs," Madam Pomfrey said, blinking rapidly to stop her tears from falling and failing miserably, "multiple lacerations and has undergone severe blood loss." She bandaged his torso carefully, slightly levitating him from the bed to do so. "He will need blood replenishing potions and a couple of days worth of bed rest and…" There the woman broke into tears, the weight of what had been said in her infirmary finally catching up with her. Minerva approached her and patted her back affectionately, trying to calm her down.

"Oh, Harry!" Lily called, rising from her seat to go stand next to her younger son's bed. Her eyes met momentarily with Severus' before she turned to gently run her fingers over the scratches on Harry's face.

"Will he be alright?" Remus asked, trying to banish all thoughts of Harry running to escape from Death Eaters while shielding his brother from his mind.

"He'll be fine." Madam Pomfrey answered, wiping away the tears that still fell from her eyes. "He needs time to heal though and I'm going to have to wake him up for his first blood replenishing potion soon…" Before se managed to complete her sentence, the infirmary's doors opened and professor Flitwick walked in, levitating an unconscious Victor Krum, Alastor Moody right behind him.

"We found him in the maze." The ex-auror stated, his voice gruff. His magical eye went from the Potters and teachers to Fleur sleeping in the distance until it finally rested on Adrian, who was sleeping too under the effects of the potion he had been given.

"He was losing blood and his pulse is faint." Flitwick added, placing the Durmstrang champion in the bed next to Harry. Madam Pomfrey spurred into action once more as the Charm's teacher looked at the sober faces around him. "May I enquire what happened?" He soon regretted ever making the question. Soon, he found himself escorted to a chair by Remus.

"And we're certain that the Dark Lord has returned?" Moody asked. Severus looked at the man carefully as Dumbledore assured him that yes, Voldemort was indeed back. Maybe it was paranoia, he thought, as he observed Mad-Eye's reaction to the news. But that first second after he had asked of Voldemort's resurrection, just before Dumbledore turned around to look at him, Alastor had seemed quite the opposite of concerned. Excited even. And maybe it truly  _was_ paranoia, but after everything that had happened that night, the potions master wasn't ready to leave anything to chance. His eyes remained on the once auror as he approached Adrian's bed.

"And how did the boys manage to escape?" His tone was gruff, but then again, Alastor had never been one for pleasantries.

"The Cup must have been turned into a double portkey." The Headmaster explained. "The first one took Harry to a graveyard where Voldemort was and the second one completed its original task to bring him at the entrance of the maze." A double portkey, Severus mused. The Cup had been placed inside the maze just that same morning and was working perfectly fine; Severus had made sure of that himself. And it had been Moody that had taken the Cup to the centre of the maze. Severus' hand tightened around his wand; this made absolutely no sense whatsoever. Moody was an auror and hated the Death Eater and their Lord with a passion. He would never betray Dumbledore either. But the thought that someone else had sneaked into the maze and tempered with the Cup was equally absurd.

"I see." Moody stated, both eyes on Adrian. That was the moment when Harry started moving, slowly waking up. He opened his eyes only to wince as he moved his left hand further up than what his newly acquired stitches allowed. He blinked once, his brain still a bit sluggish; then the memories came rushing back.

"Dad?" Harry asked, his voice trembling as he swallowed the bile that had accumulated in his throat. The sudden question had caught everybody by surprise. Severus tightened Harry's hand to show that he was indeed there, tears rolling down his face. But it was James that spoke, startling Harry as he appeared by his side.

"I'm here, Harry." The Potter patriarch said, standing next to his wife and right across Severus, his eyes focused on his younger son. Dumbledore too approached the green eyed teen, his eyes sad and having decisively lost that twinkling effect they had always possessed. Harry's eyes however were still on Severus; the potions master nodded -knowing they would need some time in private before they made any announcement to the Potters and the rest of the world- and only then did Harry acknowledge his parents. Severus sighed softly as he watched his son wince in pain once again, the mere motion of moving his head to look at the Potters making him dizzy. From what the potions master had understood, Adrian was yet unaware of Harry being the true Boy Who Lived. Did Voldemort know? Probably, Severus mused. Maybe it was time to tell everybody else too; still, he would have to talk to Harry first. A secret kept for almost eight years was not one they could just blurt out in the spur of the moment.

Remus and Sirius where the only two people that hadn't approached Harry, mostly because they stood in their respective seats still, somewhat shocked. Lily and James had been too focused on Harry and Dumbledore had followed suit, lost as he already was in his thoughts but, for the few moments after the teen had woken up and before the flowing robes of the Headmaster had hidden him from their view, Sirius had noticed the strangest interaction between Harry and Severus. Harry had called for his father and, even though James came, the boy only looked at the potions master before the man nodded, seemingly telling Harry that it was okay to acknowledge his parents. The dog animagus turned to Remus to share his thoughts, only to find it unnecessary; the shocked expression on his friend's face and his frozen gaze locked on the potions master assured him the werewolf had seen it too. Whatever  _it_  was.

"The infirmary?" Harry asked, feeling disoriented. The white, highly arched ceiling was unmistakable though, so Dumbledore's answer only solidified what he had already guessed.

"We brought you here after you cam out of the maze." The Headmaster said, his voice kind.

"Adrian!" Harry exclaimed, his eyes trying to look through the people around him as he frantically searched for his twin.

"He's right here." Lily said, her voice thick. "He's sleeping now but he'll be alright, thanks to you." She held Harry's hand and squeezed it softly, smiling besides her tears.

"Did he tell you then?" Harry asked, his eyes falling to the bandages on his chest. "About Voldemort?"

"He did." Dumbledore answered, his voice tired. "It was a truly brave thing you did for you brother, my boy." Harry nodded but his shoulders fell, as if he didn't truly believe the Headmaster. Severus noticed, of course, and wished everybody would just vanish from the room so he could be alone with his son. He stood and walked to the feet of Harry's bed so his son wouldn't have to turn his head much just to look at him; he wanted Harry to know that he was there, he wanted him to be able to see him.

"The Cup was a portkey." Harry said, his eyes finding the Headmster's. "I thought it would take me out of the maze. When I ended up in the cemetery I didn't realise what was happening at first. When I did, it was too late." He looked over the Headmster's shoulder to his father; he didn't speak but Severus understood nonetheless. He's son's eyes screamed 'I'm sorry' as if it was his fault that Voldemort had returned. Fury erupted in his chest and, once again, he vowed to see Voldemort dead, preferably tortured first.

"That was what it was supposed to do." Dumbledore agreed. "Someone place a spell over it, made it a double portkey." Harry regarded the old wizard with confusion; his mind was still fuzzy, his thoughts slightly sluggish, so maybe he just couldn't see how that could have happened because of that. Who could have had access to the Cup? Before he managed to stop himself, he had asked just that;

"But who could have done it? Who had access?" Harry could practically see the thinking process on Dumbeldore's face. Confusion first, shock and maybe fear upon reaching a conclusion and then determination and pure anger. The green eyed boy idly thought that he had never seen Dumbledore angry before. Well, he would ponder on that when the room stopped spinning.

"Who indeed?" Albus said, turning around much faster than his age should allow. And right on time, as one Alastor Moody had almost managed to step out the door of the infirmary while everybody was looking at Harry. Albus pulled out his wand but it was Severus' curse that reached Moody first, stunning him upon impact, the man falling on the floor immediately. The potions master had reached for his wand the moment Harry had made the question and he had caught sight of Alastor retreating from the room just a fraction on a second before Dumbledore had. It had been enough time to act.

"Are you mad?" James asked, his own wand pointing at Severus. Minerva mimicked him and Flitwick almost followed suit before he noticed Albus' wand was out too, only pointing at the stunned ex-auror. Sirius and Remus had frozen in their tracks to pull out their wands too, as Albus spoke.

"Not mad, James. Just faster." And he flicked his wand, causing Moody to levitate on a chair across Harry's bed. The teen looked on in confusion as thick ropes appeared around his Defence teacher, binding him to the chair in a similar manner as Adrian had been tied to a tombstone a few hours ago. At least he thought it had just been hours.

"What's the meaning of this?" Lily asked while Severus summoned Moody's wand from his pocket.

"Moody was the only one that had access to the Cup after it was inspected last night. It's either he or Albus that did it and Albus isn't the one that just tried to run away." The potions master explained, placing Moody's wand on the nightstand by Harry's bed.

"You can't seriously believe…" Minerva started, only to pause at Dumbledore's grim expression. " _Alastor_? Working for You-Know-Who?"

"No, not Alastor." Dumbledore staid, approaching the stunned man tied on the chair.

"He's not Alastor, you mean?" Remus asked, him and Sirius finally approaching Harry's bed.

"Who is he then?" Harry asked, holding his head in pain. He hadn't hit his head, had he? He didn't remember doing so.

"Are you in pain, Harry?" Severus asked, concern for his son eclipsing all other thoughts or feelings for a second.

"My head hurts. The room is spinning." Harry explained in a clipped tone.

"Here, take this." Severus said, summoning and then pouring a red coloured potion in a goblet, passing it to Harry. It was a blood replenishing potion, from what Harry could tell, and he drunk from the goblet thanking his father silently, for always caring. Severus nodded once again, before turning his attention to the problem at hand. Moody wasn't Moody? That made sense, in a bizarre way; the potions master knew very well that there were ways for somebody to claim another person's identity. He just wished that didn't bode very badly for the real Alstor, wherever he was. Silently he hoped the impostor had used the Polyjuice potion; it needed fresh samples of the person one wished to turn into and that would require Alastor to be kept alive.

"Albus, who is he?" Sirius asked, repeating his godson's question. The interaction between Harry and Severus hadn't gone unnoticed by him, at least, though it seemed the rest people in the room -with the notable exception of Remus- paid no heed to it. Still, the problem at hand was much greater than Severus being kind and protective towards his godson, so he let it slide. For the time being, at least.

"Filius." Albus called instead of an answer; the Headmaster had moved towards the stunned wizard, his hand reaching for the inner pocket of his robes where the man kept a silver flask and a single key on a silver key ring.

"Yes, Albus?" The Charms professor asked.

"Please, take this," he said and gave him the key he had just found, " and go to Alastor's office. There you'll find his trunk; open it. The real Alstor Moody will be there, I fear." The tiny professor looked startled at the request but complied nonetheless, leaving the infirmary as fast as his legs could take him. "Madam Pomfrey, I believe we shall need yet another bed ready. If you have finished tending to Mr. Krum, could you prepare for one more?" The nurse nodded, looking pale as a ghost as she took the remaining blood replenishing potion and approached Victor. She waked him up for only a few moments so that he would drink his share of the potion before putting him back to sleep. Harry already felt better, the room staying mostly still, but he imagined Victor had been injured for longer than he had been; the Quidditch player had started mumbling something in Bulgarian the moment he woke up and had held his eyes closed, even as he consumed the potion Madam Pomfrey had given him.

"Albus, tell us!" James exclaimed, losing his patience. Harry winced at the loud tone of his voice, the dizziness returning. Severus' hand fell softly on his shoulder however and he felt the comfort in his father's touch as Dumbeldore spoke once again.

"Severus, please fetch me the strongest Truth Potion you possess, and then go down to the kitchens and bring up the house-elf called Winky." Instead of leaving -the potions master wouldn't budge from his son's side, not when a man that had led him to Voldemort while successfully pretending to be and ex-auror was in the same room, thank you very much!- called for Minnied instead, giving her the same orders Dumbeldore had given him. The house elf had seen her young master on the hospital bed immediately, tears clouding her big eyes; Harry smiled at her.

"I'm alright, Minnie." He assured her. "You can go." She nodded once and returned almost immediately, a vial with the clear potion in her hands. She handed it to Severus and left again, her gaze trailing to Harry once more before she went.

"Polyjuice Potion," said Dumbledore. "You see the simplicity of it, and the brilliance. For Moody never  _does_ drink except from his hip flask, he's well known for it. The imposter needed, of course, to keep the real Moody close by, so that he could continue making the potion. And Alastor always prided himself in his trunk, with a compartment he had added himself, just to detain the Death Eater's he caught during the war when unable to reach the Ministry." Dumbledore shook his head, resigned. "I hope I'm right in my assumption, at least. But I think, in the excitement of tonight, our fake Moody might have forgotten to take it as frequently as he should have done… on the hour… every hour… We shall see." They didn't have to wait for long.

Before Harry's very eyes, the face of the man tied on the chair began to change. The scars were disappearing, the skin was becoming smooth; the mangled nose became whole and started to shrink. The long mane of grizzled gray hair was withdrawing into the scalp and turning the colour of straw. Suddenly, with a loud  _clunk_ , the wooden leg fell away as a normal leg regrew in its place; next moment, the magical eyeball had popped out of the man's face as a real eye replaced it; it rolled away across the floor and continued to swivel in every direction.

"Barty Crouch?" Severus asked, his eyes widening, looking at the supposedly dead son of Mr. Crouch. "Barty Crouch Jr.?" The man in question was momentarily being given a few drops of Severus' strongest truth serum before being re-enervated and questioned by Dumbledore. Winky had arrived in the middle of the interrogation, pleading for Bart to stop talking; to no avail. The Death Eater spoke of how he had escaped Azkaban with the aid of his mother that died in his steed, how he had lived with his father, hidden from view for so many years. He admitted he had been the one to have cast the Dark Mark on the sky the night of the Quidditch Cup; he also explained how Voldemort found him after that, using the information he had collected from Bertha Jorkins; the witch had stumbled upon him once, as she delivered some papers over to his father's house. Crouch Sr. had indeed placed a memory charm on her to protect his secret; one strong enough to damage her memory in general but not to keep Voldemort from finding out he was alive and still loyal.

Barty confessed it had been him that had entered Adrian's name in the Tournament, his ultimate goal to lead him to the Dark Lord when the time came as he had been instructed. He also spoke of how he had killed his father, eventually, only a few sort moths ago -and there Winky broke down in tears- and how he had transferred Adrian to Voldemort that night.

"I knew Harry would reach the Cup first." Barty admitted, his eyes expressionless, still under the effects of the potion. "And so I put plan b into motion. I had created a second portkey, a pendant. I entered the maze during my patrols," Severus inwardly cursed; the man had asked to patrol alone and his wish had been granted for he was Alastor Moody and that's how he did things, "placed Krum under the Imperius to take Delacour out of the way and attack Adrian. The plan was to leave him unconscious but Adrian wined the duel. So I approached him from behind, placed the pendant around his neck and activated it. It worked."

"Minerva, could you take Mr. Crouch to the classroom next door? Keep him stunned if you must and stand guard. I'll send Filius to you when he returns." McGonagall, who looked as she was about to be sick, nodded in agreement. When she pointed her wand at Crouch, her arm was steady. Winky was promptly sent back to the kitchens and an eerie silence fell over the room.

"How didn't we notice?" Sirius wondered out loud. "Moody was the one that trained us, me and James. How could we not have known?"

"I didn't even realize and I have known Alastor far longer than you two." Albus stated.

"What do we do now?" Lily asked, looking from Adrian to Dumbledore and back to her older son. "Voldemort will come after Adrian. He already has." Severus and Harry shared a look; they would have to talk soon. Maybe the time had come.

"We wait." Dumbledore stated.

"That's it?" James asked, his temper flaring. "We wait for Voldemort to kill my son?"

"We can do nothing more!" Albus said, his voice authoritative. "Do you suggest we seek Voldemort out? First, we need to inform the people. I'll talk to the Minister myself." Before any more protests could be uttered, Flitwick returned with the unconscious Alastor Moody. The Charms professor was informed of what had happened and soon left again to accompany Minerva in waiting for the Minister to arrive. A plan was formed; Dumbledore, along with Lily and Remus would talk to Fudge while James and Sirius would gather a group of aurors to bring to Hogwarts. Severus would inform the remaining staff of the school and gather the students back to their respective Common Rooms. Harry would have preferred the last part of the plan to be omitted, even as he saw its necessity. Soon however, it was proven that even if Severus staid with him they would not have had the opportunity to talk; Madam Pomfrey was adamant Harry took a sleeping potion and get some rest. Harry had little saying on the subject.

He was woken up in what felt like seconds; he looked around in confusion. The room was darker than before, torches burning only by the door of the room. Still, there was enough light for Harry to be able to see perfectly; he had felt somebody shaking him awake. Still, the room -if one excepted the remaining three champions that still lay unconscious around him and the equally sleeping Moody- was empty.

"Harry?" His brother's voice echoed in the room, sounding from somewhere on his right, startling the teen. Then, the invisibility cloak Neville was using was pulled off, revealing not only his brother, but Draco too. Both teens looked at Harry in obvious distress, their eyes falling on his injuries. Some of his stitches had probably reopened during the night as small patches of red peppered the white gauze.

"You bloody scared me!" Harry hissed, his voice kept low enough as not to wake the four other patients in the room.

"Sorry." Draco said, still looking at Harry's wound. "You scared us too."

"It wasn't intentional, trust me." Harry muttered, trying to find a comfortable position on the bed and wincing as he pulled yet more of his stitches. "How did you get the cloak?" He asked.

"Nicked it from Adrian's trunk." Neville admitted. "How did you get that?" He asked back, his expression murderous as he pointed at his brother's left side.

"It's a long story." Harry stated, looking at the two teens in contemplation. How could he put what had happened into words? He was still half convinced Dumbledore would ask him for the memory of last night's events the moment Madam Pomfrey deemed him healthy enough to walk and he wished he could just show everything to Neville and Draco too. And how could he tell Draco that Voldemort was back? What would that mean for his friend? Harry sighed; there were no correct words to use, but that was one secret he could not keep. So he told them everything he could, leaving out only the part about Voldemort finding out he was the Boy Who Lived for Draco's sake. Harry had wished there would come a time that he would have been able to tell Draco everything. But now, with Voldemort back, how could he put his friend in danger like that?

The two teens looked at Harry in fear and awe as the boy described the fight at the best of his ability. He explained that he had carried Adrian out of the cemetery until he was well enough to run. By the time he reached to the point where Barty Crouch was found out to have been masquerading as Moody for the whole year, both Draco and Neville had sat down at the chairs Lily and James had left by his bed when they had left earlier that night.

"He's back then." Draco muttered, his eyes downcast. Neville placed a comforting hand on the blonde's shoulder, smiling softly at him.

"You know you have us, still, right?" He asked, somewhat awkwardly, but managing to get the message across. Draco nodded and Neville patted him on the shoulder, not quite knowing what to say to make things better.

"So, you save Adrian's life." Draco said, changing the subject slightly. "And fought against the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters to do so." He shook his head in exasperation, trying to lighten the mood. "I can't decide if you have a hero complex or simply a death wish."

"A bit of both." Harry admitted, chuckling softly, holding his side as he did so. "Ouch." He added eloquently.

"You're in pain?" His brother asked, concern painting his expression.

"Only when I laugh. Or breathe." Harry stated. "Cracked ribs, Madam Pomfrey said." The two teens by his bed suddenly looked quite sheepish and genuinely worried.

"We shouldn't have woken you up." Neville muttered as Draco nodded by his side.

"It did me good, talking to you." Harry assured them, his eyes getting heavy; he yawned.

"We should let you sleep." Draco said, rising up from his seat carefully.

"I'm not sleepy." Harry protested, stifling yet another yawn.

"Whatever you say." Neville stated, rolling his eyes.

"And no death defying stunts while we're no around to help, do you hear me, Potter?" Draco asked, masking his concern under the playful order.

"I'll try my best." Harry acquiesced, smiling as Neville and Draco threw the cloak over their shoulders and waved at him before leaving the room. Harry watched as the infirmary's door opened and closed behind them, their footsteps fading away. He was about to attempt to ward off all images of Voldemort rising from the cauldron from his mind and get some more sleep when he was interrupted once again.

"You've told Malfoy about the cloak." Adrian's voice echoed in the room. Harry turned his head towards his twin; Adrian wasn't looking at him. Instead, his gaze was pinned on the ceiling; Harry would have thought him asleep hadn't he just spoken to him.

"Yes." He answered simply.

"Why?" Harry didn't miss the frostiness in his twin's question.

"Draco is my friend."

"He's the son of a Death Eater." Adrian said, turning his gaze from the ceiling to the general direction of his brother. His eyesight wasn't good without his glasses but that didn't stop Harry's uneasiness as hazel eyes turned towards his direction. He knew that tone; Adrian was angry and Harry was in no mood to listen to his tirade.

"Look, you don't have to like him. I do." Harry said, hoping the conversation would end there. "I would like to sleep now, should you not mind it. I tired."

"From saving me, I suppose." Adrian said, his tone even colder. "You needn't have bothered; I was doing well on my own." Harry had to pause for a second, to make sure he had heard his brother's words correctly. Where was that coming from?

"You were tied on a tombstone." Harry stated. "Voldemort was ready to kill you."

"He has tried so before. And I dealt with it." Adrian threw back. " _Me_ , not you. I could have done it again; there was no need for you to carry me, as you happily informed Malfoy." The hazel eyed teen spat. "I've had more training than you."

"You think this is a contest?" Harry asked, feeling dizzy once more. He didn't need this. Not now.

"Isn't it?" Adrian wondered, his tone accusatory. "First, you hide the creation of the Firebolt from me. Then you fight against the Death Eaters during the summer. Then you enter the Triwizard tournament. Now this. Ron and I have talked about this you know; I just didn't want to believe it. But now you're being friendly with Malfoy, trying to impress him with  _my_  invisibility cloak! Voldemort's back and you befriend a Death Eater!"

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked, experiencing and odd combination of dread and anger. "Draco's not his father! And what does last year have to do with what happened tonight?"  
"You're jealous." Adrian stated. Harry's mind froze, no coherent thought making it through.

"I'm  _what_?"

"You're jealous. I didn't want to believe it at first but it's obvious now!" Adrian exclaimed. "And you're trying to become me. You should stop. You're not me; I'm the one meant to help win this war. Step back, little brother, or you might get hurt." Harry gaped at Adrian, his mind buzzing. A part of him wanted to scream, wanted to yell that he was the Boy Who Lived, that he had done every single thing Adrian had taken the credit for. A bigger part of him wanted to run, find a private spot and cry his eyes out in pure frustration and disappointment. He had risked his life for his twin. Time and time again, the latest being on that very night. He had kept who he was a secret for so long, just so that Adrian could have the protection he would need. Was it all for  _that_?

"You don't know what you're talking about." Harry hissed, his eyes never leaving his twin's face.

"I do." Adrian stated defiantly. "And I'm telling you to stop. You're my brother but  _I_  am the Boy Who Lived. Don't forget that." And Adrian turned his back to his twin, facing the other way around as Harry remained frozen in shock on his bed, silent tears trailing down his cheeks and onto the pillows. He didn't deserve such treatment; he had wanted to tell his twin everything. He had hoped he could make things right. Now all he wanted was to return to Silbreith and remain there for the summer, not even bothering to check with the other Potters. Anger rippled inside him as he turned to look towards the ceiling.

Adrian could do as he wished. He had other things to take care of first before he dealt with his twin's hissy fit. Voldemort was back; how he had managed that was still a mystery. The war was beginning. And Harry vowed to find his way through it and come out the other side alive. Adrian was right, in a way. He was the younger brother; always the one that was though of last, the spare Potter, even to Voldemort up until that very night. A plan he had come up with when he was seven remerged in his mind; he would have to ask his father's help of course, but it would be a beginning. His path was now set; all that was left was to follow it.

 


	66. The Oath

Adrian was given a bill of clear health the very next morning, being urged not to overexert himself by a stern Madame Pomfrey. Harry, for once, was happy to see him go. All things considered, he should probably find him and curse him something awful the moment he laid eyes on him. He had half a mind to scream abuse at him but there was another part of him that wanted to return to Silbreith at once. Last night had brought to mind something he hadn't thought for over eight years but now there it was once more; and if he wanted for the plan to work, he had a lot of things to do the moment he returned home. Then there was the small, insignificant nuisance that was Voldemort, he thought sarcastically.

The man had seemingly risen from the dead and Harry had no clue as to how he had managed to pull that of. For one, he thought, he should not have survived the killing curse in the first place. Harry was far from stupid; he had seen the memory of that Halloween night, seven years ago with Merlin's aid. And while he was doubtful of ever being able to reproduce a shield strong enough to deflect the killing curse, he was quite certain it had worked just as any other fully functional shielding spell of its type did. Harry closed his eyes and recalled the basic information on shielding spells, from one of the very first books he had read on the subject.

Though many would attempt to classify shielding spells in various separate categories regarding the spells and curses they block, their size or time duration, when examining the end result they produce, there are two kinds of magically conjured shields; those that absorb the spell or curse they block and those that deflect it. The first category consisted of shields that lasted longer and were more durable, usually for as long as the caster's magic held, but had the drawback of disabling any form of counterstrike. The second category, included shields that could only withstand a finite amount of hits, usually low, but allowed counterattacking in the form of deflecting the offensive curses they blocked back to the original caster. If the shield was cast correctly, the rebounded curse would be of the same form and power as the original spell or curse or, as it happened with particularly strong shields, it would be even stronger than the original.

The green eyed wizard knew for certain that the involuntary shield that had saved his life as an infant belonged in the second category. And it had been certainly cast correctly if one judged from the fact that, well, he was still breathing air. Bottom line, Voldemort should have died that night. He should have been nothing but bones and a terrible memory by now. Yet Harry had seen him lose his body but somehow cling to life, managing even to return to full strength.

"He managed to create a blood ritual for that," Harry murmured in the empty room. Fleur had vacated the hospital wing before he had woken -Fleur had left him a note that she would return to see him later that afternoon when Madame Pomfrey permitted it- while Mad-Eye and Victor -who had sustained more wounds than the other three champions put together- had been removed to St. Mungo's a few hours ago for further monitoring. Harry sighed and tried to find a comfortable position on the bed as he replayed the events of last night in his mind. His ribs protested, the area around the wound still tender, even though Madame Pomfrey had healed them after his body had replenished enough blood to undergo the procedure. Images of Voldemort emerging from the cauldron replayed in his mind but all they managed was to bring back the terror he had felt and no obvious answer to his question. How had Voldemort survived?

"Ready for your last blood replenishing potion?" The school's nurse asked, approaching Harry with yet another cup of the red liquid.

"Would it make any difference if I wasn't?" Harry asked, massaging his temples. He needed to talk with Severus immediately; his father would probably be able to help him sort his thoughts out. The problem was, the potions master had yet to return to the hospital wing. From what Harry had gathered from random conversations he had caught snippets off when McGonagall had arrived to collect Moody, things weren't going very well with the announcement of Voldemort's return. Fudge seemed to be denying the very possibility of it actually happening and Harry would have to wait for his father before he found out anything. Because, apparently, his Head of House thought he was only a child and thus should not be bothered with the new developments concerning the return of a certain Dark Lord he had fought against less than twenty four hours ago.

"Not really, Mr. Potter." Madame Pomfrey stated, handing Harry the cup. Harry sighed and drunk the offered potion, wishing he could just leave the infirmary and found out what was happening out there. As it turned out, he would have to wait for half an hour before his father entered the hospital wing, looking mutinous.

"Idiots!" Severus exclaimed, plopping on the chair next to Harry's bed. "Each and every one of them!"

"I presume talking to Fudge didn't go very well." Harry said, lifting his body in a sitting position.

"How that man ever managed to get elected escapes me!" The potions master stated, hiding his face in his palms.

"Professor Snape!" Madame Pomfrey's voice echoed in the room as the witch in question walked towards the potions master, a stern expression on her face. "Mr. Potter is on bed rest and visiting hours don't start until four! That's two hours from now, professor!"

"In light of recent events," Severus said, looking at the nurse with tired eyes, "I would ask for your understanding." Madam Pomfrey regarded him for a few seconds before sighing and nodding her head in agreement.

"Fine." She acquiesced. "But I would prefer you didn't distress Mr. Potter further, Severus."

"How much more distressed can I get?" Harry asked rhetorically, causing the nurse to tut at him before returning to her office. Severus looked around the room before pulling out his wand and casting a few choice spells to ensure their privacy.

"It's not perfect, but it'll have to do for now." He said, turning his gaze towards his son. "I think you'd better come over my office later tonight to tell me exactly what happened last night."

"I suppose." Harry offered, deflating slightly at the inability to get everything out of his chest just yet.

"How much worse can it have gone than what I've imagined?" Severus wondered, placing his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"He knows. Voldemort knows." Harry answered simply. Severus' eyes widened as he stood frozen, looking at his son as if he might disappear. In a swift movement he had moved forward and enveloped his son in his arms, trying to assure himself that Harry was truly there and comfort him as much as he could.

"I'm going to kill that man." The potions master stated, still not letting go of his son.

"Get in line." Harry muttered, his voice coming muffled from somewhere next to Severus' shoulder. "Dad, air."

"Oh, sorry about that." Severus apologised, not sounding very much repentant.

"So, how did it go with the Minister?" Harry asked eventually, smiling fondly at his father.

"It didn't." Severus spat, fuming. "He refuses to even consider the notion Voldemort could be back." Harry blinked a few times owlishly, trying to come to terms with the latest developments.

" _Why_?" The green eyed wizard managed to utter, not quite understanding the Minister's reaction.

"He doesn't want to face it. Voldemort's return means war and Fudge doesn't want to go down in history as the Minister that allowed the Dark Lord to return." Severus explained, inwardly cursing the stupidity of one Cornelius Fudge.

"So he'd rather go down in history as the man that allowed the magical community of this country, maybe of the whole of Europe, to go down without a fight?" Harry asked, feeling his headache making a vicious return. "How in the world are we supposed to fight in this war, let alone win it, if the majority of our community doesn't even know it's happening?"

"Fudge will not be easily swayed in this; he had always feared Dumbledore coveted his post. Having him announce that Voldemort is back and asking him to take action has spoken to every paranoid theory he has ever had." The potions master explained. "During the first war it was Dumbledore that moved the strings and quite right too; the previous Minister had been murdered alongside her family and Voldemort had full control of the Ministry; if we had been left at the hands of the likes of Fudge, we'd have been doomed. Fudge believes that Dumbledore's aiming to bring things back to where they were during the war."

"That's ridiculous!" The green eyed wizard protested. "Dumbledore is many things, but an aspiring Minister of Magic is not one of them. From what I understand, had he wished it, he would have become Minister right after the war. What if I show Fudge my memory of last night or, at least, the part with Voldemort's return?" Harry wondered, trying to come up with a way out of this

"Dumbledore has already offered that for you." Severus stated, gritting his teeth, obviously annoyed that the Headmaster felt it was his place to offer his son's memories freely. "Fudge claimed they would be fabricated."

" _What_?" Harry exclaimed, his fists slamming on the mattress in anger. "Is he such a moron? Fabricating a memory that lasts over a minute is night impossible to do and, even with memories that last less than that, the deception should be obvious!"

"Not if the memory was planted." Severus explained, running a hand through his hair.

"He thinks Dumbledore has messed with my mind so much as to implant a memory?" Harry asked incredulously. "That's a serious accusation to make so easily."

"Which was what I reminded him, while your godfather tried to stop James from hexing the man." Severus offered. "He seemed less reluctant to make open accusations after remembering just whom he would involve in such a scandal."

"What if we go to somebody else with the memory?" Harry asked, willing his headache away. "Someone with sway in the Wizegamont, perhaps?"

"The only person that holds more sway over the Wizegamont than Fudge at the moment is Lucius Malfoy." The potions master said, causing Harry to fall back to his pillows in exasperation, cursing his bad luck once again. An image of Draco, laughing at something his brother had said popped into his mind, managing to depress him further. Was any aspect in his life  _not_  complicated?

"So, our two choices are an obstinate fool and a Death Eater?" The green eyed wizard asked, knuckles pressed over closed eyes.

"In theory, there's also Amelia Bones." Severus amended.

"Susan Bones' mother?" Harry wondered out loud, remembering the shy, kind Hafflepuff.

"Yes. She's much more capable than Fudge, if you ask me, but she can do very little if the Minister and Malfoy are against her. And don't forget, the Ministry has the press on their side." The potions master said.

"Do you think they'll use the press against us?" Harry inquired, honestly not doubting that Fudge would dare do something like that.

"He could make our lives hard," Severus admitted, "but I don't think he would dare declare war openly. Had it been solely Dumbledore and Adrian involved, he might have. But both James and Lily have friends in the Ministry and so do Lupin and Black." The potions master smirked. "Then there's the two of us to consider; you are Harry Potter, Triwizard Champion and wealthy broomsmith and I just got awarded the Order of Merlin First Class. Not to mention we're two of the few wizards that are in amiable terms with the goblins."

"So you're saying it could have been worse." Harry stated, pondering on what his father had said.

" _Much_  worse." Severus agreed, nodding emphatically. "The  _Daily Prophet_  is heavily influenced by the Ministry -it has been ever since the end of the war- and the primary source of information in the country. As things stand now, Fudge is in place to keep Voldemort's return a secret but can only do so much to actually turn the public eye against us."

"But he would have done so, if he could." Harry said; the current conversation did nothing to abate his urge to curse something to oblivion.

"Undoubtedly." The potions master supplied. "I still think he'll try; Dumbledore will take the burnt, mostly. Perhaps Adrian too. Maybe the whole Rita Skeeter debacle from last March and the following law suit will hold him back on that front until he feels truly cornered. I honestly don't know."

"Perhaps Adrian will benefit from his self-assurance being knocked down a peg." Harry muttered. Severus looked at his son in complete befuddlement; though the Potter twins had never truly been close, Harry had gone to extreme lengths just to ensure Adrian's safety.

"Did something happen between you and Adrian?" He asked, deep down knowing that it had; for Adrian's sake, he hoped the older Potter twin hadn't pushed Harry to his breaking point. Still, caring for his son immeasurably more than he did for Adrian, he had decided that, had his twin truly pushed Harry to his limits, he would support his son's future choice of action, whichever that would be. It took a lot for Harry to snap and, if Adrian had managed it, he was worth the repercussions.

"Yes, he…"

"I believe you should go now, Severus!" Madame Pomfrey interrupted them, walking in the room, a tray of food in her hands. "Harry has to eat and rest for a few hours." Severus cursed inwardly, lifting the spells he had placed around his son's bed, while Harry fell back onto his pillows with a huff.

"If you say so, Poppy." Severus muttered, standing up so that the nurse could approach Harry with his food.

"Mr. Potter will be discharged after he sleeps for a few more hours." Madame Pomfrey announced, taking note of their annoyance.

"Alright then." The potions master agreed. "I'll leave you to it. I have to attend some urgent matters till late this afternoon, actually" He added, looking pointedly at his son before turning around and walking out of the room; lovely, the green eyed wizard thought. He would have to wait till nightfall before he could speak to his father again. Harry ate with little appetite, knowing that if he didn't, Madame Pomfrey would find a way to keep him on bed rest indefinitely.

At four o'clock sharp, the doors to the infirmary burst open to reveal Fleur. She ran straight to Harry's bed and, upon reaching it, kissed him for all he was worth. It took Harry a few seconds to restart his brain before he was able to do something more than smile stupidly.

"Nice to see you're alright." He finally said, instantly wincing and berating himself for the words that had left his mouth. 'Nice to see you're alright,' he inwardly repeated; smooth, Potter.

"And you too." She said sniffling, her voice coming muffled from where her face was pressed against Harry's chest. "Don't ever do that to me again, 'arry! Never!"

"I shall try not to." Harry assured her, smiling slightly.

"And congratulations on winning the Tournamnet. You deserve it." Green eyes widened at her proclamation and not because she thought he deserved to win. He had completely forgotten he had actually won.

"I almost forgot. There's that, I suppose." He muttered. Fleur turned her eyes at him, her expression perplexed.

"You  _forgot_?" She asked, seemingly afraid he had hit his head along with everything else. "'ow could you forget?" The sinking feeling in his chest returned; nobody had told her of Voldemort's return yet. Harry knew that, during the first war, France too had been affected by the Dark Lord's plans of supremacy; Fleur should know. Everybody should be warned.

"Fleur there's… There's something you should know." And he told her of Voldemort's return, everything save from his conversation with the Dark Lord and his status as the boy who lived. Fleur got paler and paler, her lips trembling, her hands clutching his shirt tighter.

"'Arry… Is this for real?" She asked, shaking her head once. "Is 'e really back?"

"I fear it is." He said, his expression sober; there really was no sweetening the pill with this one.

"But he can't… he is…" Harry simply shook his head negatively. "Oh, Harry!" She exclaimed and hugged him again, body trembling as the magnitude of what had happened last night crushed onto her.

"It's…" He wanted to tell her it was alright. Or that it would be at least. But even if the words floated in his head he couldn't turn them into sentences, at least, not into lies. "It's going to be difficult." He said in a soft voice. "Very difficult and very dangerous. As it was fifteen years ago. But I haven't lost hope yet." I can't  _afford_  to, he added mentally. "I hope you won't either." He felt more than saw her nod and like that they stayed, for a few more minutes until Madame Pomfrey returned for Harry's final check-up.

"I'll go write to my family, 'Arry." Fleur said, smiling softly at him before leaning in for a kiss, ignoring the school's nurse that not-so-subtly cleared her throat behind them. Harry shook his head exasperatedly; Madame Pomfrey was an amazing nurse but seemed to have the worst timing in history.

He finally managed to leave the infirmary at five that afternoon, thanking the nurse for her help; he knew he should have shown his appreciation more, especially remembering that a few hours ago he had been carried into the room bleeding, his ribs broken and in pain. Lost in his own thoughts, he walked all the way to the Gryffindor Tower, moving through hidden passageways, not wanting to run into anybody before it was absolutely necessary. All hopes of finding some peaceful and quiet place to think until it was time to visit his father were soon extinguished from his heart as he stepped foot into the Common Room. The roaring noise alone was enough to have him taking a step backwards.

Banners had been placed all over the walls. There was food from the kitchens abound. Fred and George had set of some of their special fireworks and the whole House was cheering and applauding. Ron and Hermione looked as if they hadn't slept last night. Adrian was clapping too, not overly enthusiastic and avoiding to look his twin in the eyes. Neville was the only one that was looking at Harry apologetically.

"Here's our champion!" Two identical voices chorused as the Weasley twins pulled him inside the room. Harry smiled slightly -hoping his reaction didn't look too forced- and walked around the room, being congratulated for his victory.

"Sorry for that." Neville muttered as he finally managed to approach his brother. "I tried to tell them that you might be too tired for this -I didn't want to spread mass panic with mentioning, well,  _you know what_ , out of the blue- but Fred and George wouldn't have it."

"It's alright, Nev." Harry assured him, smiling his first true smile since he had entered the Common Room. Adrian passed by them, still not looking at his twin. Hermione followed him out of the room, her expression half annoyed, half apologetic, while Ron clearly glared at them.

"Did I miss something?" Neville asked, feeling a sudden impulse to curse that glare off Ron's face.

"Adrian being a jerk, honestly." The green eyed wizard stated, wincing as Lee approached them, eager to find out what had happened inside the maze; it seemed as if the Universe did not wish him to have a decent conversation on that day of all days. Still, he started talking, explaining what he had faced during the Third task, finishing his narration the moment he touched the Cup.

"And then you were transported back to the entrance of the maze?" A first year student Harry vaguely recalled as Romilda Vaine asked.

"I wish." Harry answered, sighing silently.

"Then what happened, mate?" George asked, his attention completely focused on the narration.

"I believe the Headmaster will probably want to tell you personally." Harry answered, watching almost every single Gryffindor in the room regarded him with expressions of various phases of confusion. He knew that Dumbledore would not allow his students to leave the school without being warned of the danger that lurked ahead, the Ministry's opinion notwithstanding.

"The Headmaster?" Fred wondered, sharing a befuddled gaze with his brother.

"Yes." Harry stated, his eyes trailing over the faces of his housemates. "I suppose it will either be tonight or on the Leaving Feast in two days. Either way, it is not something you should hear from me." As much as he hated it, he knew that Dumbledore had better chances of getting that message across; hearing that the most dangerous Dark Wizard of the past centuries had risen from the dead from the mouth of a fifteen year old, no matter if it  _was_  Harry Potter, would only amass to spreading panic. "I'm just going to ask you to listen carefully when he says what he has to say and heed his words." The green eyed wizard advised as Neville nodded his approval of a speech well given.

"Now you got me curious." Dean Thomas admitted, the majority of the people in the room nodding in agreement, some, those on the last two years mostly, looking at each other in something akin to fear.

"Good." Harry said, rising from the chair he had been seated at since he had started his narration. "But enough of that! Dinner is about to be served in the Great Hall and we have managed to eat everything that Fred and George," he said bowing to the twins in an exasperated manner, "had kindly brought to us from the kitchens." There was a general murmured consensus around the room and Harry sighed, rubbing his forehead tiredly as the attention of his fellow Gryffindors shifted elsewhere.

"Sometimes I wonder how you can keep so calm." Neville whispered as he approached his brother, both teens heading for the Great Hall, Harry being congratulated on the way.

"I don't think I get remotely enough credit for all the effort I make not to become a sword-wielding, wand-toting maniac." Harry threw back, smiling slightly as his brother chuckled, shaking his head in amusement.

"Let's not push you then." Neville offered, his smile falling slightly as he saw his brother's shoulders fall, a sigh escaping the raven haired teen's lips. "Is this about Adrian?"

"It's about Adrian too." Harry admitted. "Can you wait for a little more, so we can get Draco and find a more private setting?"

"Of course!" Neville assured him, throwing an arm over his brother's shoulders, winking at Ron as the boy tried to glare at them from across the room. After they reached the Great Hall they ate in a haste, Harry trying to catch Draco's eyes over the tables; he didn't need to try very hard. The blond Slytherin seemed to be in the same mindset, looking for his friends from where he sat. Harry bumped Neville in the shoulder and rose, chasing down his last bite of treacle tart with some water, nodding towards Draco's direction. The blond teen had also risen from his seat and Neville followed suit, the three boys meeting at the entrance of the Great Hall.

"Would you mind if we took a walk around the castle?" Draco asked the moment they stepped out the crowded room. Harry noticed he was clutching a piece of parchment in his hands -a letter, he realized- and was looking even paler than usual.

"I was about to ask for the same thing." Harry stated, pointing towards the general direction of the Grand Staircase. "What about a walk to the courtyard?" He asked. It was only seven thirty in the afternoon and, being early June, the sun had yet to set.

"As good a place as any." Draco muttered, following his two friends through the corridors.

"A letter from home?" Neville asked, having noticed the parchment too.

"From my mother." Draco clarified. "She doesn't mean to show it but I believe she's scared; she said that a house elf would come to pick me up at the station as she and father will be otherwise occupied. I think we all know why."

"I… look, Draco, I can't even begin to say how sorry…" Harry tried to apologise, only to have the Slytherin punch him on the shoulder, bestowing him with a tortured and exasperated look he had never seen anyone else quite pull off.

"Because it's  _your_  fault that the Dark Lord has returned, of course." Draco said, his voice laced with sarcastic drawl. Neville cocked an eyebrow at his brother, his expression clearly stating that even trying to think it  _was_  his fault would mark him as an idiot in his books for the remainder of his years. Harry smiled at both his friends, not quite able to come up with words that could convey his gratitude.

As they neared the door to the courtyard, Harry pulled out his wand and started casting an array of protecting charms and small wards around them, feeling suddenly quite paranoid; after what had happened, he supposed that he couldn't be blamed for not wanting to have delicate conversations out in the open.

"Anyway, Harry wanted to tell us something about Adrian." Neville said, sensing neither Draco nor Harry wanted to delve further into the reason why the Malfoys would be indisposed come Friday. Harry sighed and repeated the conversation he had had with his twin after they had left the infirmary. By the end of his monologue they had walked around the courtyard twice and had opted on sitting on a bench by the south wall of the cloister surrounding it.

"And today he has opted not to talk to me, or look at me at all. I'm getting sick of this." Harry admitted, looking towards the summer sky.

"I'm going to kill him, you know." Neville exclaimed and Harry turned to look at him only to find him smiling a wide, cheery smile that only made his threat seem that more ominous.

"I can't believe he's being such a monumental jerk." Draco stated, nodding in appreciation at his friend's suggestion of murder. "And this is coming from me, so it should mean something."

"How so?" Harry asked, feeling better already with his friends' support.

"I can be quite a jerk if I want to, I'll have you know." Draco explained, assuming a haughty countenance, pretending to swipe an imaginary speck of dust from his robes.

"Yes, we know, Malfoy." Neville said, rolling his eyes at the teen.

"Anyway, not even I would say something like that to a person that had just saved my life.  _Especially_  not to my twin." The Slytherin stated, his expression getting serious. The three friends remained silent for a while after that. Harry sighed once again before speaking.

"I'm not going back to Potter manor this summer." He didn't know what he had expected his friends' reaction would be but all he got were two understanding nods.

"I'm not sure I would return home either if I had the chance." Draco said, not looking at anything in particular.

"I get it." Neville simply offered. "So, when would you like me to come visit at Silbreith?" Harry smiled.

"Whenever you want." The green eyed wizard stated. "That goes for you too, Draco." The blond turned to look at him as if he had just proclaimed the earth was flat and the Dark Lord had given up on his plans for world domination, deciding instead to pursue a career as a florist.

"Me?" The Slytherin asked, index finger pointing at himself, grey eyes wide in surprise.

"No, Malfoy, my  _other_  friend called Draco." Harry answered, eyes rolling in exasperation.

"Oh." Draco said, a smile forming slowly on his lips. "Fine, I suppose."

"Just send a letter when you wish to visit and I'll send a house elf to pick you up." Harry offered. "You understand why I can't have the floo network open…"

"No need to explain." Draco stated, hand waving in dismissal. "I'll try to be in a public place when your house elf comes to pick me up. Leaky Cauldron sounds alright to you?" Harry nodded in agreement.

"You have to see the Quidditch pitch at Silbreith, Draco!" Neville exclaimed, brightening up at the prospect of all three of them spending time together over the holidays. "It's practically…" Harry, who was smiling up to that moment, suddenly froze, looking around in confusion. The courtyard was empty. Yet, one of his wards had been tripped; having no specific boundaries to set his wards on, he had opted for simpler ones that notified him when breached. And the one that had been breached was… the anti-animagus ward? Harry had only cast it as an after thought, the image of a bleeding Pettigrew passing through his mind momentarily and it had proved to be quite helpful.

He looked closer to the ground, noticing Neville had stopped talking at was instead observing him. He motioned him to keep speaking, feeling relief when neither he nor Draco questioned his motives. He gripped his wand tightly and then he caught it; a black shiny bug, seemingly inconspicuous, perched atop a bush next to the bench. He cast a silent stunning spell in a fraction of a second, startling both his friends. His aim was true and the bug toppled over on the ground unconscious.

"I hadn't realised you hated beetles that much!" Draco exclaimed, placing a hand over his heart.

"I don't." Harry stated, conjuring a glass jar with a lid, pocking a few holes, no larger than the head of a needle with a spell on it. "I do however hate animagi that have no business listening in to my private conversations with a passion."

"This is an animagus?" Neville asked, looking from his brother to the beetle in shock.

"Considering it activated the ward I had placed especially to inform me of the presence of an approaching animagus, yes, it is." Harry stated. "I think a walk to Sev's office is called for." The raven haired wizard said, gathering the beetle in the jar, lid in place. It took them only a few minutes to reach the potions master's office, Harry walking purposefully, jar in hand. He really didn't need something like this today. Severus answered to the sharp knocking on his door in a few seconds, surprised to see the crowd that had gathered outside his office.

"Come in." He said, moving aside to allow his son and the two teens entrance to the room. "Could I help you with som… is that a water beetle in that jar?"

"No, it's an animagus turned into a water beetle." Harry spat, placing the jar on Severus' desk with a little more force than what was necessary. "It tried to listen into a private conversation and I didn't appreciate it." Severus grinding his teeth in anger, pulling out his wand. He placed the beetle on the floor, took a step back and pointed his wand at it, fighting back the urge to incinerate the wizard or witch in question; would they ever leave his son in peace? Instead of setting the insect on fire, he cast the spell that would force it to turn in its original form. The four wizards stood by as the beetle grew and sprouted human limbs, slowly taking the form of an unconscious…

" _Rita Skeeter?_ " Four voices chorused, two in confusion, two in anger.

"That does explain a few things." Severus admitted, hands slowly massaging his temples, wand still clasped in his fingers.

"I didn't know she's an animagus." Draco said, staring at the prone form of the reporter.

"She's not a registered one, that's for sure." Harry spat, his own fist clenched tight around his wand.

"What now?" Neville asked as Severus cast a spell to lift her from the floor and onto and armchair. Harry moved forward, binding her to the chair before summoning her wand and enervating her, determination carved on his expression. Severus stood back, wanting to see how his son would handle the situation; Harry seemed to have a plan. The journalist opened her eyes and blinked twice, feeling disoriented before her gaze focused on the four wizards in front of her. Suddenly wide awake, she gulped audibly, trying to rise from the armchair. Finding that she could not, she tried to plead her case;

"This is not what it looks like!" She exclaimed, eyes frantic.

"It's not?" Harry asked. "Because to me it looked like you were trying to turn a private conversation into one of your little exposés." His tone didn't leave any room for arguments.

"I…" She stuttered, her mind frozen in fear, thinking of the repercussions of being caught.

"You're not a registered animagus, are you?" Harry pressed on. The woman paled even more. "I guess that answers it." The green eyed wizard muttered.

"I'm not going to write anything about you, I swear! I didn't manage to catch anything anyway!" She said, words tumbling from her lips, her shrill voice echoing in the room.

"Oh, I know you won't." Harry stated, smiling slightly, raising his wand. Skeeter froze in fear, completely missing the fact that Harry wasn't even aiming at her. Instead, he summoned an empty parchment from Severus desk having it float in front of him at the level of his eyes. The remaining two teens in the room shared a confused glance while Severus smiled as his son placed his wand on his temple. Harry was about to draw up a magical contract, it seemed; to what purpose it was yet to be determined.

Harry removed the wand from his head before touching the tip of it on the parchment; letters started forming on it until the page was almost full. The teen smiled at the ending result, eyes skimming over the text. He looked at the reporter in front of him and tapped the parchment with his hand.

"What is this?" The woman asked, looking at the contract as if it was going to explode.

"A magical contract. I think you'll find its contents to your liking." Harry stated.

"I… don't understand." She said, not relaxing one bit. Harry simply held the contract in front of her so that she could read it. Her eyes widened as she went on, finally setting on Harry, her expression utterly bewildered. "I still don't get it." She admitted.

"The way I see it, you're in deep trouble, Miss Skeeter." The green eyed boy said. "Even if you weren't an unregistered animagus, you have been caught on Hogwarts' grounds, from which you have been banned, and in a distance of five feet from a person -that would be me- you are bound by law not to be in a hundred feet radius from." He shook his and tut condescendingly. "What a mess you've made, Miss Skeeter!"

"And so you decided to hire me?" She asked, causing three pairs of eyes to regard her and Harry in complete confusion.

"You're hiring her?" Draco asked, his tone disbelieving. Severus simply looked on, a smirk etched on his lips.

"Yes, I am." He turned back to the reporter. "As you'll be finding out in a few days, I'm sure, things are about to change in the Wizarding world. The contract I've drawn up, won't stop you from working as you always did. It won't prevent you from writing the articles you'll be asked to write, it won't sensor them. That's not what I want." Harry explained. "I could easily have you convicted for what you did but that would cause you to lose your job  _and_  your connections. And that would be a shame, for I could truly use your connections, Miss Skeeter!"

"Yes, I read that." She said, as Severus chuckled, realising what his son had come up with. Sneaky and outright brilliant. I must have done something right raising that boy, he thought, beaming with pride. If Harry managed to show the same talent when dealing with the other aspects of the coming war, much unnecessary bloodshed could be avoided, less time wasted in walking around in the dark, looking for answers.

"In the future, I might need to use your connections and, when the time comes, I want to be in a position that will allow me to do so. That's why, in exchange of not telling anybody of our unfortunate meeting today, I want you to sign this contract. You shall not print any details of my personal life from now on and you  _will_  provide me the information I ask -and I will only ask for information I  _know_  you can provide, rest assured- when the time is right. You shall not speak, write or in other ways, magical or not, inform any other person or magical object of the existence of this contract, its contents and today's meeting. You'll swear on your magic to uphold the contract and its terms, of course." Harry stated, emerald gaze unwavering. "Considering everything, you're getting out of this unharmed." The journalist gulped.

"May I read the contract again?" She asked, voice trembling. Harry shrugged and agreed. It took her half an hour to reach a decision and it was the one keeping her out of Azkaban. Harry smiled as Severus proofread the contract, changing the wording here and there. He signed his name, Skeeter mimicking him while Severus signed it too as a witness.

"That would be all." Harry said and passed her some floo powder, freeing her from her invisible restraints. She stood on wobbly legs, taking some of the green powder silently; Harry returned her wand to her and kept his pointed at her person until she flooed to the Leaky Cauldron. Harry turned around to the three other wizards in the room, grinning widely.

"That. Was.  _Wicked_!" Neville exclaimed while Draco burst out in laughter. Severus approached his son and tussled his hair, ignoring his protests as much as ever.

"I've turned you into a Slytherin, finally." He proclaimed, making Harry laugh.

"I can't believe I just did that!" Harry admitted, looking at the contract on the desk.

"Bloody brilliant!" Draco offered, still smiling at his friend. Draco and Neville stayed only a little longer in the room after, already out of curfew, speaking in excited tones on how Skeeter had reacted and how Harry had dealt with her. Harry, of course stayed back longer, to finally talk with his father.

"Those past twenty four hours may very well have been the strangest and most tiring of my life." Harry offered, collapsing on the armchair Rita Skeeter had vacated. "I don't know if I want to scream of laugh hysterically at it all."

"It was amazing how you handled Skeeter, Harry." The potions master stated, smiling at his son. "You're going to make it through this. It won't be easy, but I have faith in you."

"Thank you, Dad."

"Now." Severus said, taking his place on the armchair across his son. "Could you tell me exactly what happened last night?" And Harry did, leaving nothing out. He spoke of the ritual, his conversation with Voldemort, the resulting fight and the Death Eaters. He told him of Adrian's reaction and his own decision to return straight to Silbreith for the holidays.

"I don't even know what to say about Adrian." Severus started from there.

"Don't say anything then." Harry offered. "He's not five anymore, complaining 'cause someone took his favourite toy."

"That, he's not." Severus agreed. They talked of the way Voldemort had returned too; Severus agreed the Dark Lord had used some sort of ritual; still, how he had managed to tether himself to the world of the living was as mind-boggling as ever. His look pensive as he recalled a similar conversation he had had with his son, in this very office, two years ago after the destruction of a specific diary. There was  _something_  there, he knew it. And he would make the connection, come what may. They also spoke of how Dumbeldreo had agreed that Severus had better not to return as a spy for the Order between Voldemort's lines.

"He said that that I had been too open about my affiliation with the Potters in general and you in particular to be able to resume my role. If he pressures me in the future, I will find myself inclined to inform him I bear the Dark Mark no longer." The potions master shrugged. "At the moment I'm not in a particularly sharing mood."

"And neither am I." Harry mused. "I know the time has probably come to tell everyone but…"

"I don't know if the time has come or not," Severus interrupted him, "but I know you should not tell the truth while angry at your twin. This is your greatest secret Harry, one that you have kept for eight years. It will change your life and Adrian's and I think you'd regret it if you simply blurted it out because you're furious at your twin, no matter how much he deserves it."

"I think…" Harry said, "I think I would like a few days to sort my thoughts out. See what Voldemort plans to do, perhaps. If he makes a move out in the open, I'll tell the truth immediately, even if I'm not ready to; I'd rather everybody found out from me than him." Severus nodded, placing a comforting on his son's shoulder. Their conversation turned to Harry's plans to return to Silbreith; the green eyed wizard implied there was something he wanted to work on but opted on not saying what exactly. He wanted to run an experiment first and then… well, he would see what he'd do from then on.

Next day was, of course, the last day of term. Adrian was maintaining his attitude, not understanding that his twin had stopped paying him any attention. As Harry had predicted, Dumbledore made the announcement of Voldemort's return at the end of the Leaving Feast.

"The Ministry of Magic," Dumbledore said, "does not wish me to tell you this. It is possible that some of your parents will be horrified that I have done so, either because they will not believe that Lord Voldemort has returned, or because they think I should not tell you so, young as you are. It is my belief, however, that the truth is generally preferable to lies, and that any attempt to pretend that Voldemort is dead and poses no threat to our community would be the direst falsehood." A ripple of fear and terrified whispers passed through the room, faces anxious and scared looking at the Headmaster.

"The Triwizard Tournament's aim was to further and promote magical understanding. In the light of what has happened -of Lord Voldemort's return- such ties are more important than ever before." Dumbledore looked from Madame Maxime and Hagrid, to Fleur who was looking at her plate in contemplation and her fellow Beauxbatons students, to Victor Krum and the Durmstrangs at the Slytherin table. Krum, Harry saw, looked wary, almost frightened, as though he expected Dumbledore to say something harsh. He had returned to the school earlier that day, his hand in a cast and his demeanour reserved. Victor had taken what he had done under the Imperius to heart, having apologised again and again to all three champions. Harry had made a point to tell him that it wasn't his fault as many times as he could, but the Durmstrang champion was still troubled. Karkaroff's disappearance the day before did nothing to help him of course.

The Beauxbatons were set to depart early the next morning, just a few hours before the students of Hogwarts boarded the train home. Harry had gone out of his way to meet with Fleur before she left; back in the beginning of the school year he had hoped to follow her to France after a few weeks, for the Rennes tournament. Now he could see how that would be impossible.

"It's not a goodbye." Harry told her as they sat by the lake, just out of sight of the Beauxbatons carriage, watching the deputy Headmaster of Durmstrang -a man much more likeable than Karkaroff who had arrived urgently from the school last night- prepare his school's ship.

"It's not?" She asked, her head resting on Harry's shoulder as he run his fingers through her hair.

"No." Harry assured her. "Maybe it could be an au revoir?" He asked, smiling softly.

"Till we meet again then?" She asked, lifting her gaze to hold his, her eyes moist. "Je pense que… Oui, un au revoir a bien raison." She said, nodding mostly to herself. It made sense to not say goodbye; Harry was convinced they would meet again. He didn't know why, but he felt this was not the last he'd see of Fleur Delacour.

"That's the spirit!" He enthused, leaning in for a kiss. She smiled through it, her smile much brighter when they parted.

"Besides, I'm applying for a job in Gringotts. There's a year of training and then who knows? I may find myself back 'ere." She said.

"I hope things will be much better in a year." Harry offered, stroking her check softly. They said their au revoir by the lake, promising to write as soon as possible. By the time Harry got reunited with Neville and Draco at the Great Hall, he had a smile on his face, thinking that at least his relationship with Fleur had been one of the things that had gone great that year.

"Okay, Harry?" Neville asked, not quite sure how to approach the subject. Harry saved him the trouble by smiling at him. His friendship with Neville and Draco was one more think that had worked out through the year.

"It'll be fine." He simply answered as he helped himself to a generous amount of pancakes; they had to board Hogwarts express after breakfast. The conversation soon turned to how Harry was going to break the news of not going to Potter manor to his parents.

"I hope they won't object too much." Draco said, trying to sound optimistic.

"They will." Harry assured him, making a small, dismissive movement with his hand. "But they can't do anything else. Emancipated, remember?" He asked, his grin rivalling the sun in brightness.

The train ride was almost uneventful. The three teens shared a compartment, Luna and Ginny passing by to say hello a little before the train arrived in King's Cross. Luna and Neville had kept a closer relationship since the ball; Harry knew that Neville was somewhat concern with Luna just turning fourteen, but would have been blind if he said he was unaware of the attraction. He for one -and Draco too, not having forgotten how the younger girl had kept Pansy at bay at the Yule Ball- was rooting for them; Luna was smart and fun, in her own special way and she made Neville smile.

"So, Voldemort is back." Luna said, going straight for the root of the matter as usual.

"I fear so, yes." Harry answered.

"Lovely." Ginny stated. "I suppose the Ministry won't acknowledge anything until Voldemort comes knocking at their front door?"

"They probably are." Harry said, smiling at the visual of Voldemort visiting the Ministry with a flower bouquet, leaving his calling card at the entrance with the message "woo-hoo, I've returned" written at the back. Maybe the stress is getting me, he mused. Then something different occurred to him. "You didn't take long to convince."

"Dumbledore made an announcement in front of the whole school; his students." Ginny explained. "He wouldn't do that if he wasn't telling the truth. And the fake Moody was given the Dementor's kiss on the spot." Harry had heard that too; Fudge had eliminated the only other source of information as fast as he could, citing Crouch Sr.'s murder as the reason for his actions. "Fudge must have been desperate to keep something from coming out."

"And he thinks that Dumbledore wants to become Minister." Luna added, silvery blue eyes focused at the conversation. "Everybody knows that."

"I wish everybody was as easy to convince as you two." Harry offered; he had heard the talks around the school. People didn't want to believe that Voldemort was back. Next term would be quite interesting, he could already tell. By the time the train entered King's Cross, Harry was ready for the impending confrontation. He dragged his trunk from the train and onto the platform, his eyes searching for his family; he found them a little further down, just being reunited with Adrian. The Weasleys where with them. Breathing in deeply and looking back at Neville and Draco that were giving him encouraging looks, he walked towards his family. Adrian spotted him first, his demeanour changing immediately, his smile falling from his face, eyes adverted.

"Hey, kiddo!" Sirius exclaimed, coming closer to hug his godson.

"Hello, Sirius." He kept the reunion as short as possible and soon, James invited Arthur over at the manor, calling for his family to leave the platform.

"Actually," Harry began, looking at Prongs neutrally, "I won't be joining you."

"What?" James asked, looking at his younger son in confusion.

"Why?" Asked Lily, just as surprised as her husband.

"I'll be heading straight to Silbreith." Harry explained. "I have pressing matters to attend to."

"You can't be serious!" James exclaimed, approaching him. "Whatever it is, you can do it from home." I intend to, Harry thought.

"No, I can not." Harry stated.

"Harry, please." Lily said, placing a calming hand on James' shoulder. "You must come home with us." She shared a look with Prongs. "Your father and I have talked about this with Albus and we think you should start training too this summer." Harry openly chuckled at that.

"I think I can managed my own training." He stated, smirking slightly. "I have done good enough so far, I think."

"Harry…" Sirius tried to speak but Harry wouldn't have it.

"Actually I have talked about this with Adrian," the teen in question turned to face him, slightly panicking at what his twin would say, "and we've agreed that it's better for me to train on my own. Haven't we Adrian?" He asked. There; and let him clean up his own messes for once. "Now, if you'd excuse me…" He said and turned around, leaving a shocked group of people in his trail. He passed Ginny in his way to the other side of the platform where he had arranged for Minty, one of the house elves of Silbreith, to pick him up. The girl must have heard anything, for she smiled at him nodding her head in respect;

"Nicely done, Mr. Potter!" She said, her grin getting bigger, eyes shining mischievously.

"Why thank you, Miss Weasley!" Harry exclaimed, winking at her as she left to reach her parents. The green eyed wizard was still chuckling, feeling freer than he would have thought possible considering the circumstances, and would have made a beeline to Minty had he not spotted yet two more members of the Weasley family. Fred and George were just descending from the train; feeling spontaneous, he approached them instead, hand reaching in his inner pocket where a pouch filled with shimmering coins lay. One thousand galleons as a prize for the Triwizard Champion; one thousand pounds he did not want.

"Hey, Weasleys!" He said, gaining their attention. The moment they turned his way, he made sure the spell on the pouch was still holding it tightly closed before throwing it to Fred. It didn't take more than a few seconds for the twin to understand what had happened.

"Harry, what are you doing?" George protested.

"I don't need that pouch. I don't want it; you can use it to make people laugh and something tells me we'll need that soon. Consider me your silent partner." He said and winked.

"Harry, if this is some form or charity…" Fred warned him, looking from the small treasure in his hands to Harry and back.

"It's an investment, and a good one. From one wild card to another." The green eyed boy threw over his shoulder and waved, leaving two red haired twins to stare dumbly at his retreating back.

"Thank you, Harry!" He heard their voice chorusing, screaming at the top of their lungs just as he handled Minty his trunk. He was still smiling when he stepped foot at Silbreith. Severus, who was waiting for him in front of the fireplace, immediately relaxed upon seeing his smile.

"I take it everything went well?" He asked, hugging his son.

"With my family?" Harry asked back. "No, not really. I did however subtly place the blame on Adrian and left them all too stunned to react at the time. I fully expect angry letters later today." He shrugged and smiled at nothing in particular. "Still, it's good to be home."

That first night, Harry wrote to Neville and Draco, narrating how things went with his family. He lay in bed, thinking of what he wanted to do the next day; he would have to work a bit in his alchemy lab. Metallurgy and actual metalworking would be involved and Harry found himself oddly excited. Maybe it was the prospect of actually getting to hit something with a hammer, he thought before sleep claimed him.

Next morning, he wolfed down his breakfast under the exasperated gaze of Minnie and the fond one of his father before excusing himself to run to his lab. There was a book in there somewhere that he had left for future consideration; he hadn't truly touched it since he had created the Philosopher's Stone but he had a good reason to revisit it now. Besides the fact that he had always wanted to try it, of course.

Severus found him whooping in joy, having just located what he wanted from said book, when he arrived some hours later with two letters in hand. One was from Neville, the boy writing that he had arrived home just fine and was still laughing imagining the reaction Harry's words caused. The second letter was from Draco. And it was neither long, nor informative.

"What is it?" Severus asked, observing the change in Harry's features.

"Draco writes to ask if he can come over." Harry said, his tone worried. "He will be at the Leaky Cauldron at noon, if we can send someone to pick him up. He says he understands if we don't." He looked at his father. "Should we both go, or just me?"

"I think it's better if I went alone." Severus said looking at his watch; it was twenty minutes before twelve. "We don't know why Draco seems so eager to leave his house."

"But, Dad…"

"No, Harry." Severus objected. "I have the utmost trust in your abilities, but there really is no need to come along; it won't take more than five minutes." Harry seemed to contemplate his answer a bit, but could see in his father's eyes that he would be fighting a lost cause.

"If I have to wait for more than five minutes, I'm following you." Harry stated, laying down his terms.

"Understood." Severus said nodding. Father and son walked back to the living room, the potions master started a fire in the fireplace with a silent spell.

"Minnie!" Harry called, the house elf appearing in front of him in an instant.

"Yes, master Harry?"

"A friend of mine will be arriving soon." He said, smiling at the house elf. "Could you prepare a room for him? I'm not sure if he'll be staying over, but I'd rather we were ready."

"Of course, Master Harry." The house elf offered and bowed.

"Thank you, Minnie." He turned to his father once again. "Five minutes before twelve."

"I should better go." Severus offered.

"Five minutes, Dad." The green eyed wizard reminded him. The potions master nodded his agreement, throwing a handful of floo powder into the open flames. He stepped in, leaving his son to pace in front of the fireplace. His world was reduced to a kaleidoscope of colours for a few seconds until his feet landed on the fireplace at the Leaky Cauldron. Inwardly he hoped Draco was in time; he was quite certain that his son would swoop in, wand in hand, if he was a few seconds late; as he took in the room around him however, he realized he shouldn't have worried. He could easily see the ash blond hair of the young Malfoy even in the half full room.

"Hey there, professor!" Tom the barman greeted him. "Can I help you with something?"

"Not today, Tom." Severus offered. "Just picking a student up; school related business, you understand."

"Of course, professor!" And with a polite nod, Severus headed for Draco's table. The boy was sitting on his own, staring at the table in front of him, not having taken a single sip from his butterbeer.

"Draco?" He called, immediately gaining the young wizard's attention. The teen's grey eyes were bloodshot, dark rings prominent around them.

"Professor?" He asked confused, his voice raspy. "I thought Harry said he'd sent a house elf?"

"I'm better than a house elf." Severus offered, smiling softly. "Now, if you could just answer this question for me and we'll be gone; where did you meet with Harry and Neville when you first started talking to them last year?" He knew he had to ask; he trusted the boy, but not his father and he would under no circumstances bring a Death Eater in disguise to his son.

"At Hogsmeade; the Shrieking Shack, actually. I thought they had been following me and we started screaming at each other." Draco said, his expression confused. Severus nodded with a smile and pointed towards the fireplace.

"I just had to make sure it was you, Draco." The potions master said, clearing Draco's confusion. "Now, follow me outside; have you ever side apparated before?" He hadn't have time to connect Silbreith to the floo network for the day so he could travel from the castle but not to it.

"Once." Draco mumbled, allowing the potions master to lead him through the back door.

"Good." Severus stated and offered his hand to Draco. "Hold on tight." Draco did, closing his eyes tightly. Next time he opened them, he found himself inside a grand castle; tapestries covered the walls of the hall where they had landed, the room three times as big as the entrance hall back home. "Welcome to Silbreith, Draco." Severus offered, smiling at the boy's reaction to his home.

"Sev?" Harry asked, appearing from around the corner. "Right on time!" He exclaimed, approaching the two wizards. "Hello, Draco! Welcome to Silbreith! Don't just stand there; I asked Minnie to make us some tea."

"To the back porch then?" Severus asked leading a startled Draco further into the castle.

"Yep!" Harry agreed looking at his friend. Draco remained silent as they walked, red rimmed eyes wide as he took in the large corridors of Silbreith, gasping as he caught sight of one of the ballrooms that was being cleaned at the moment. "It's kind of huge," the green eyed wizard admitted, smiling softly, "but it's home." Draco didn't comment on Harry's proclamation, having seemingly lost himself in his thoughts. He gasped once more as he took in the view of the forest and the glittering lake while Harry pointed to the couch they would be using. He sat down just as silently, not even blinking when Minnie appeared with the tea and wide assortment of cakes.

Severus and Harry exchanged a look of concern; they both knew that there was something wrong with Draco but, with the teen completely silent, it was hard to find the right question to begin a conversation. And just as Harry was about to blurt the first thing that came to mind, Draco started the conversation himself.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience. I couldn't think of anywhere else to go." He said. Not the most reassuring way to start, Harry thought, unconsciously leaning towards his friend.

"I've already told you, Draco; you're always welcome here." The boy nodded, still staring at the coffee table.

"Harry's right, of course." Severus offered, his voice soft.

"When I returned home yesterday, the whole manor was in an uproar. There were…" He gulped and finally turned to look at the two wizards sitting next to him. "There were Death Eaters there." Harry could feel the blood leaving his face.

"Draco…" He started, but his friend carried on, seemingly wanting to get everything out of his chest in one go.

"They were injured in the fight against you, in that cemetery; they couldn't go to the hospital so father volunteered our house. Nott is badly burned; his face will scar. McNair lost his leg. I think I heard it got incinerated during an explosion?" Draco asked, looking at his friend in wonder.

"I would feel bad hadn't I cracked two of my ribs in that explosion." Harry stated, smirking wryly. "Besides, that one is Voldemort's fault. The explosion I mean." Harry amended. "I  _did_  sever his leg." Draco gulped before continuing.

"Crabbe shuttered both his legs. Avery lost two fingers and some mobility in his left arm. My father broke his wand hand and six ribs." Harry winced.

"Draco, I'm so sorry…"

"I didn't expect you to sit there and die. I didn't want you to!" The Slytherin said with disarming honesty, his face frozen in a grimace of pain, his eyes shut. "Wormtail is dead."

"Good riddance." Severus muttered, Harry nodding in agreement. He couldn't find it in him to grieve for the man that Pettigrew had once been.

"My father was running around the house shouting orders. More Death Eaters came, ones that hadn't been in the cemetery. I think you only faced the inner circle." Draco carried on, his shoulders shaking. Harry was looking at his friend dumbfounded; this couldn't be easy for Draco. He could practically feel his friend's pain as the blond spoke. "Father said he was preparing everything for the Dark Lord's arrival. I couldn't sleep, not with everybody there. My mother was nowhere to be seen, so I walked to her private rooms. My father was there with her so I hid behind the curtains. I used to hide there when I was younger, have I ever told you that?" Harry shook his head negatively as Draco lost himself in happier times for a few moments. "My mother was pleading with him, asking to have the meeting somewhere else, away from our home. My father wouldn't budge. He said it was an honour, that she should stop acting like a… a blood traitor and a coward."

"You can stop if you want. Just for a while." Harry said kindly, feeling pain grasp his insides as Draco's voice broke.

"Mother said that I was back home; surely he didn't want me near the Dark Lord. I had never seen my father look so furious. For a moment I thought he would strike her." Draco mumbled, tears started forming in his eyes. "But he didn't. Instead he said it would be an honour if I was deemed worthy to receive the Dark Mark so early in life. He left the room; he passed right by me. I had never seen my mother cry before last night." Harry moved forward and pulled Draco in a hug. The boy squirmed a bit, his body shaking with silent sobs.

"Draco, I don't know what to say." Harry admitted, looking at his father over his friend's shoulder. The potions master looked murderous, his hands clenched tightly into fists.

"I run back to my room and into Hedwig. I immediately wrote back asking if I could come over. My mother was ecstatic I'd leave the house. Father thinks it will do me good to keep you close in sight for some reason; he said the Dark Lord would appreciate the information." Harry's arms tightened around Draco; if Voldemort as much as thought he could use his friends against him he would personally make sure his death would be dealt as slowly as possible.

"Don't worry about that now." Harry admonished.

"I spent the whole night thinking over everything." Draco admitted. "I don't want to be a Death Eater, Harry." He said, pulling back to look at his friend's emerald eyes, imploring Harry to believe him. "I don't want to become like my father; I scarcely recognise him anymore. I don't want to make my mother cry." He stopped for a second, gathering his courage. He held his head higher, grey eyes determined. "I want to help you."

"What?" Both Severus and Harry exclaimed.

"I want to help you. Your side. I refuse to be that man that I saw in my father last night." He added with conviction. "I will have to pick sides eventually. And this is a war; I could die on either side of the battlefield. So I chose to fight with you; if this war is over fast enough, maybe my mother won't have to fight. If I help you, maybe you won't get hurt. I once said I envied your independence, Harry." Draco said, lips pressed in a thin line. "What I really envied was your courage to break free; this is my chance to do the same."

"Draco, think of what you're saying." Severus cautioned, knowing deep down that the teen in front of him was determined and would fight either way. And Severus would have him in their side without as much as a second thought if it wasn't for the fact that his father was already thinking of using him as a spy. And by aligning himself with their side, Draco would find himself in the position the potions master had occupied during the last war; that of the double spy. He wouldn't wish that on any man, let alone a fifteen year old teen.

"I have thought it. And I know you might not trust me." Harry made to protest but, before he could find the words, Draco offered what he thought was the solution to their problem. "I want to take an Unbreakable Oath." He said, and Harry's mind went completely blank, a soft buzzing in his ears.

"No, Draco…"

"It's for my protection as much as yours." The blond teen explained. "You will be sure that I will keep my word…"

"I  _know_  you will!" Harry exclaimed.

"Fine, others on your side -our side- will know it too then." Draco offered. "And I can't have information protected by the oath wrestled out of me without you knowing. If I'm forced to break my vow by force, you will immediately be notified of my position and get me the bloody hell out of there before I blurt anything out."

"If things ever go there, the oath will be no guarantee that I'll be able to help you. Knowing where you are and getting there are two very different things." Harry stated.

"I will join your side anyway, Harry." Draco stated. "I wish you'd help me with it."

"Draco, you can't ask me… There are things you don't know about me!" Harry said, trying to dissuade his friend from this madness, wondering why his father wasn't intervening. He could see it in Severus' eyes; the potions master knew that Draco had made up his mind. That didn't mean Harry wasn't going to try.

"And I won't hear of them unless I do this." Draco stated, jumping backwards and pointing his wand at himself. "I pledge myself to your cause!" A bright orange light surrounded him, Harry's exclamation of protest dying on his lips. Of all the cursed things… Draco had gone and pledged himself! A pledge was something like a wizard's oath, only reversible. The problem was that only the caster could reverse it; till then, his alliance would be clear to anyone who had the ability to read magical traces. Voldemort would see it from a mile away.

"Take that pledge back, Draco!" Harry pleaded. "This isn't the middle ages."

"Not unless you accept my terms." Draco pressed on.

"You don't need to take the Unbreakable Oath to be on our side." The green eyed wizard said.

"Not in your eyes." The Slytherin agreed.

"Why does anybody else have to count?" Harry deadpanned.

"Look, Harry," Draco tried to explain, "I'll either do this the right way or not at all. And since not doing this is not an option for me, you'll have to indulge me."

"Blackmailing Slytherins…" Harry muttered, sliding down on the couch.

"You can't win this one, Harry." Severus repeated his words from earlier, eyes sad. He understood Draco's need for the oath. It was a clean break; the ultimate proof to himself that he wouldn't turn out like his father; not with his own life on the balance. And the potions master knew what that meant too; not wanting to turn into your father. "But Draco, I implore you, think of the risks."

"I have." Draco said. "My family is already affected by the war. I will not allow my father to drag me into his choices."

"There's no turning back from this." Harry said, looking at Draco, even as he kneeled and extended his hand.

"I know." The Slytherin stated, clasping Harry's hand with his own.

"If you'd please, Dad." The green eyed wizard said, looking at the potions master.

"Dad?" Draco asked, his eyes widening, gaze flying from Harry to Severus and back.

"I told you there are things you don't know about me." Emerald eyes locked on grey; Harry was giving him one last out. Draco smiled, breathing in deeply.

"I hope you're in a sharing mood." He threw back. Severus lifted his wand, looking at the two teens. He sighed once, hoping this was the right decision to make. He pressed the tip of his wand on their linked hands.

"Will you, Draco, fight by my side against the Dark Lord Voldemort until the war is over?" Harry asked, emerald eyes locking on grey.

"I will." Draco intoned. A thin tongue of brilliant flame issued from the wand and wound its way around their hands like a red-hot wire. Harry felt like screaming; he inwardly cursed Voldemort for everything he was worth.

"And will you keep my secrets until I say it's time to reveal them?"

"I will." A second tongue of flame shot from the wand and interlinked with the first, making a fine, glowing chain.

"And will you swear not harm me or my allies 'till the end of this war?" Harry asked, smiling softly at Draco.

"I will." And a third tongue of flame shot from Severus' wand; it immediately twisted with the others and bound itself thickly around their clasped hands, like a rope, like a fiery snake.

 


	67. Mithril

It was a few minutes past noon, on the 26th of June, and the much feared second Wizarding War had reached a standstill even before it began. The reason for such and unexpected development was quite surprising itself, for both sides of the war, and could be easily summed up in two words; Harry Potter.

Albus Dumbledore had just had one particularly disturbing conversation with the Potter family, regarding their younger son. It seemed that Harry had opted on not following the rest of his family back to Potter manor but had decided instead to return straight to Silbreith castle, giving no specific reason for his actions. He had pressing matters to attend to, was the exact words he had used to excuse himself from their presence, according at least to his father. James Potter had been outraged, openly blaming Severus Snape for his son's decision, even if the potions master himself had not been brought up once in their conversation at King's Cross, from what the Headmaster had gathered.

But what had prompted such an action, Albus wondered, his eyes staring unfocused on the bright blue skies out of his office's window. Things had seemed to be going just fine between the Potters from what he could tell! Harry obviously cared deeply for his family and especially his twin brother, having willingly turned himself into a living shield to protect Adrian from Voldemort and his Death Eaters two short days ago. Adrian had been a bit cold to his brother at the beginning of the year, of course, but Albus had pegged that down to his shock of finding himself entered in the Triwizard Tournament.

"A tournament Harry had been chosen for and spectacularly won." Albus muttered, his gaze falling on his familiar. Fawkes was dozing on his perch, head hidden in his feathers; the phoenix had a soft spot for the younger Potter twin, the Headmaster recalled, his thoughts trailing towards the green eyed wizard once again.

Harry had been receiving the top marks in his class since his first year, that was certain. From the little he had seen of the boy before he had turned eleven and the first three years of his schooling in Hogwarts, Albus had thought Harry a brilliant, albeit shy and reserved child. He seemingly had more Ravenclaw than Gryffindor qualities, from what he could tell and was close friends with Neville Longbottom a kind and equally shy boy in his year. Ah, yes, things had been quite clear regarding Harry Potter from Albus Dumbledore's point of view. Until, of course, the moment they weren't.

Because suddenly, almost exactly one year ago, a metamorphosis had taken place. Gone was the timid boy he remembered; in his place a young man had appeared, a bright inventor, confident in his abilities, by the side of a completely changed Severus Snape. Albus had been forced to re-examine all he knew about the boy only to realise he didn't actually know anything of importance. Harry was the younger brother of Adrian Potter and had been mostly raised by Severus Snape. When he had pulled a few strings to leave Harry in Severus' care, he had done son in hopes that the young potions master would be able to regain some parts of himself the war had robbed him of. He had witnessed the instant connection between the two, back at the very first time they had met. But he had never anticipated this.

Harry had seemed to be the catalyst that changed Severus' life for good, giving him back what he had lost and more. And Albus Dumbledore had no idea how he had even managed to bring such a change about. Then the emancipation ritual had been brought up and, for a moment, Albus had feared the worst for the younger Potter twin. But a short conversation with the boy, all he had managed to get, really, had proven that Harry's heart was in the right place. Family is our greatest treasure he had said and Harry had wholeheartedly agreed.

Things had only turned more and more confusing from then on. Albus had known Harry was a competent duellist; he had heard of how the teen had fought against the Death Eaters at the Quidditch World Cup last August after all. But standing up against a group of Death Eaters amidst a crowd was a far cry from entering the Triwizard Tournament -and getting chosen as the champion- at the age of fourteen. Harry had been the youngest champion in history and had won too. If his selection as the Hogwarts champion hadn't been enough for the Headmaster to realise Harry Potter was an extremely powerful wizard for his age, the First Task would have convinced him instantly. The power behind Harry's charms had been staggering and shocking to witness.

And his use of a ritual in the Second Task, let alone his knowledge on the subject, was nothing short of astonishing. The fact that Harry had caught him looking into his mind that day -and had consciously allowed him to do so despite the fact that he could have stopped him- only served to confuse Albus further. For a man that seemingly had no secrets to keep, Harry had managed to keep every important information about himself very well.

Then, there where the events during and after the final task. Harry had stood up against a fully restored Lord Voldemort and his inner circle of Death Eaters and had lived to tell the tale, practically carrying his brother to safety too. The boy had gotten injured in the process, that was true, but Albus had seen fully trained aurors go down facing less than Harry had. And now, this. No, the Headmaster thought, this would not do.

He would have to keep a closer eye on Harry Potter, starting next year. He already knew trying to persuade the young man to stay at Potter Manor was a lost cause. Harry was legally an adult and as such could choose to reside wherever he pleased; pressing him to choose otherwise would not work -judging from his reactions during the past year- and only cause him to alienate himself further. And Harry had already formed a close bond with young Draco Malfoy, Albus added inwardly. The emerald eyed teen could be a great asset to the coming war, as long as he stood by his twin's side. Come next term, he would have to find a way to keep the boy closer, Albus decided, and so he would.

Meanwhile, in a mansion not very far from Hogwarts, Lord Voldemort was pacing up and down in Lucius Malfoy's office. He was at the exactly same place where he had decided to go after the Potter twins that Halloween night, it was the exactly same movements he was repeating. But he was angrier than ever before. Almost fourteen years ago, he had made the decision to attack the Potter twins, intent on preventing a prophecy from being fulfilled. That move had cost him his power and had set his plans one and a half decades back. And he had vowed vengeance on the one responsible for his temporary downfall. He had vowed he would rectify his mistake; he would hunt Adrian Potter down like an animal and finish what he had started at Godric's Hollow that night. The Boy Who Lived would have to die for him to rise again, he had decided and he had planned his return meticulously.

Admittedly, there had been yet another setback, his first attempt to use the Philosopher's Stone to return had been foiled three years ago, seemingly by the same infuriating boy. But he hadn't given up, oh no. He would rise victorious; the Triwizard Tournament had been the perfect opportunity to achieve his goals. The return of Wormtail, worthless as the man had been, was just what he had needed to realize his plans. And after waiting for nine more months, he had finally done it; Adrian Potter had walked into his trap, his blood bringing him back to full power. He had asked the despicable boy to look him in this eyes as he died, wanting to see their history go full circle, wanting to watch the terror in the eyes that had stood defiantly locked with his all those years ago. And he had gotten his wish; only to find out he had been chasing the wrong Potter all along.

With an enraged cry, Voldemort pointed his want towards one of the priceless vases that decorated Lucius' office, turning it pieces. The wrong boy! The impulse to kill Adrian just for the inconvenience he had caused had almost taken over the rational part of his brain that reminded him the Boy Who Lived, although not Adrian, was still a Potter. He would be susceptible to a trap with his brother as the bait, would he not be? He had never imagined how fast that plan would work.

Harry Potter had appeared in front of him, emerald eyes burning brighter than he remembered them, head held high. He was taller than his brother was his first thought as he assessed his unexpected opponent. Lithe and strong. And then Harry started speaking and Voldemort noticed even more; the boy's mind was hidden behind impenetrable shields, his intentions hidden under layers over layers of masks. He was more powerful, more intelligent, more composed than Adrian. Harry Potter was simply  _more_  than his twin brother. And Voldemort didn't like it one bit.

Adrian Potter had always been a nuisance. A potential threat due to his continuous training and some unknown power he possessed. Harry Potter however, was a formidable opponent. Not even fifteen and he had bested his inner circle of Death Eaters. He had faced him, never wavering. And he had caused irreparable damage to some of his followers. Voldemort seethed as he thought of the extent of damage Harry could have caused had he not been carrying his twin to safety.

And, on top of everything, Harry knew the contents of the prophecy that concerned them. One more piece of Lucius' private collection of art joined the rumble on the floor, sharp pieces of porcelain embedding into the thick persian carpet. Their short duel in the cemetery hadn't been enough for him to gauge his new opponent's abilities clearly; there had simply not been enough time for him to gather anything other than the power behind the spells the boy had used. The one with the power to defeat him had stood in front of him and he found himself knowing nothing of the boy!

He had done his research of course; the first thing he did when he left the cemetery was to request information from those of his Death Eaters still standing. The results had been less than pleasing; nobody seemed to know anything about Harry James Potter before last summer. He was the best student in his year, the Seeker of Gryffindor's quidditch team and had never given any indication of being anything other than that. Looking back however, now knowing that it hadn't been Adrian that had stopped him from getting the Philosopher's stone, he could recognise the spell that had killed Quirell for what it was. A powerful, difficult to control, large scale curse, one that should have been impossible for a first year Hogwarts student to cast, even if he was the top of his class. Then again, Voldemort thought, the boy appeared to have been raised by Severus Snape.

Another vase crushed against the wall. Severus Snape. When he hadn't appeared in the cemetery after he had summoned his inner circle, Voldemort had supposed the man was simply maintaining his cover with Dumbledore. But no. He had seen the potions master's picture next to the Potter boy's in the papers. The boy had been raised in Severus' castle of all places and had apparently developed a close relationship with the once spy. The Dark Lord curled a thin, upper lip in disgust; from what he had gathered, Severus had practically  _adopted_  the damned boy! He had once thought Severus to be one of his most loyal servants. He was definitely the most competent; he was focused, obedient, magically powerful, effective and, apparently, an extremely skilled oclumens and spy. It was plainly clear that the potions master wasn't on his side any longer; recent events made him question if he had  _ever_  been.

No, Severus would clearly offer no assistance in defeating Harry Potter, Voldemort thought. If anything, he would be the greatest obstacle he would have to overcome to reach the boy. Then there was something that Lucius had mentioned. His son, apparently, had had the sense to approach the younger Potter twin; he was keeping an eye on him, Lucius said, since the beginning of the year when the boy had suddenly risen to recognition. The Dark Lord was doubtful if that was truly the case. He didn't have any scruples in using a fifteen year old boy as a spy; he just had trouble imagining Harry Potter -from what he had seen of the boy- or Severus, for that matter, to let Lucius' son close without caution. So, either the boy was much smarter than his father or just as pompous and unable to understand he was being played.

What he had to do, Voldemort realised, would be treading with caution. It was an impulsive decision on his part that almost ruined everything last time. He refused to repeat the mistakes of his past. Last time he had acted on the fragment of a prophecy, overheard by a man he now recognised to be a spy. Before he made a move in the open, he would have to hear the complete prophecy himself. There was no room for mistakes this time; he would regroup his forces and strike when his enemies least expected it. Defeat was not an option. It had never been.

At the same time Voldemort was making plans to get his hands on the prophecy now held only in one of the most secure parts of the Ministry of Magic, the boy he had once thought was the reason on his defeat lay on his bed, looking at the ceiling above in quiet contemplation. The past few days had possible been the most confusing by far in the short life of Adrian Potter.

Even after all his training and the times he had faced Voldemort since he turned eleven, he had somehow never imagined the dark Lord would return to full strength. He had thought his effort would be enough to hold him back for good until he… what? Quit? He could see now how childish he had been in hoping something of the sort.

The moment Voldemort stepped out of that cauldron was the moment he realised he was going to die. There was no other use for him at that point, he could tell, and the only possible way in which the events could unfold would undoubtedly result with him on the receiving end of a killing curse. If he was lucky. He had fully expected the end was near the very moment Voldemort asked him to look into his eyes. He had half-resigned himself to death at the point, but had opted to go, at least, with his head held high. He had expected Voldemort would gloat and goad him until he was bored enough and took his life. He had not, however, expected a curse that would simply render him unconscious and he sure as hell hadn't expected to find his younger brother next to him as he woke up, still in the same cemetery, but free of his bonds.

Harry had carried him as far as he could and, when the time had come to fight, he had simply ordered him to run, dealing with the Death Eaters the best he could. Looking back, Adrian realized he had never seen his brother like that; Harry had been fearless, his hand steady as he pointed his wand against their assailants, treading through flames and rubble to reach the Triwizard Cup. Adrian had been too dizzy, too disoriented at the time to fully grasp what had happened. But later on, when he woke up in the infirmary, he had understood exactly what had happened. Harry had saved his life. And he had been just fine with it, Adrian thought, grateful for what his twin had done. Until Neville and Draco had visited Harry that night.

Adrian had never truly understood the reason why Harry wanted to even be civil towards Draco, let alone be his friend. Malfoy had done nothing to merit it, he thought, nothing that could make him appear as friend material in his eyes. And yet, his twin had chosen to befriend the insufferable Slytherin, despite his protests. He had also chosen to be friends with Neville, a meek bloke if nothing else. Or at least he had been, from first to third year. Still, Neville seemed to be in his brother's confidence more than he was. He found himself furious just thinking about it. He hadn't included Harry in his ventures in the past three years, that was true. But he had just wanted to protect him, he told himself; 'cause even if Harry had always been a stellar student, he hadn't had actual duelling training before, right? The small voice in the back of his head that reminded him that neither had Hermione and Ron had been swiftly squelched every time however, as the thrill of a new adventure griped him.

Besides, Harry was his twin. If there was anyone that deserved to know of him being raised in a castle and designing racing broomsticks it should have been him! Adrian still had trouble stomaching how different Snape was from what he had initially believed. He hadn't liked the man, even before he had met him, as his father's stories of how they had fought during their school years had been told and retold until he could practically feel as if he had been there at the time. His father had always painted Snape in such a light, Adrian had never even stopped to know the man that his brother had been spending so much time with. And when the time came, he had been just as dumbfounded as the rest of them upon seeing how much Severus Snape wasn't like his father had related.

The potions master had been easily proclaimed the favourite teacher of the school in one short year. Even he had to admit that he had a better understanding of potions than ever before now that he had actually started paying attention to what Snape taught. He wondered, not for the first time, how his twin's life had been in his younger years. He still hadn't visited Silbreith -the castle being unplottable, its location an absolute secret- even if his brother had spent his holidays there during the past year. Neville had, he suddenly recalled, his ire rising. And Draco too, in all probability.

His memories took him back to that night, back at the infirmary, when Neville, Draco and his brother had spoken of the events that had taken place in the cemetery, the awe and support the two teens showed coming into dire contrast with how Ron had treated him in the beginning of the year and how Hermione sometimes rolled her eyes at his apparent denseness. Upon realizing that Neville and Draco not only knew about his invisibility cloak but had also taken it from his trunk to use it, he started seeing red. A talk he had had with Ron after the second task came to his mind; was it possible that Harry was jealous of him?

Suddenly he started seeing the events of last year under a new light; Harry's secrecy, his insistence of undergoing an emancipation ritual, entering the tournament, befriending a Malfoy, the only son of one of the most influencing families in the country. Why else would he go to such lengths if  _not_  out of jealousy? It all made sense!

So, not one to hide behind his finger, Adrian had confronted his twin, making it clear that he wouldn't have him meddling with the upcoming war. The last thing he needed was worrying over his brother trying to show him up in the middle of a fight. No, he wouldn't stand for it. Harry had mostly stood silent during that talk; during the next two days they had avoided each other, not talking even when boarding the train. And even though he had wished Harry would deny training with him, or at least held his grudge and ask to be trained by Sirius or Remus, his twin had simply smiled and stated that he was sorry but he couldn't make it. He had work to do, pressing appointments and whatnot, and he would have to depart for Silbreith immediately. And his twin had left, proclaiming that he had spoken of his decision with him and he had agreed it was the best course of action.

Adrian grimaced at the memory. His father had been furious after they had returned home, asking him what in the world Harry had been referring to. He had minced his words, thinking it would be better not to explain exactly what had happened, lest he found himself blamed for his twin's decisions. His mother seemed to know there was something missing from his explanations while Sirius and Remus had stood in silence, sharing a few concerned looks with each other but nothing beyond that.

And now, here he was, wondering what his twin was doing and dreading his new training regime that was to start on the next day. Sirius, when he had finally spoken, had reminded them all that Harry, who was legally an adult, could do as he pleased. Adrian harrumphed at the thought; why did Harry get to be declared an adult and not he? Pushing all thoughts of his twin from his mind, he instead focused on his plans to meet with Ron and Hermione in two days. They, at least, didn't think themselves as high and mighty as to not need training!

And many miles towards the south, yet another Hogwarts student pondered on her travel plans for the coming week. Ginny had been terrified that her mother would oppose to her going to Romania this year, Voldemort's return causing her to want to keep all her children -or the ones too young to decide on their own- close to her. While Ginny understood why her mother was loath to leave any of her children out of her sight, she had thanked whomever listened to her prayers for her decision. Romania was as far away as possible from Voldemort as her daughter could currently get, Molly had decided, and sending her there seemed the only logical choice. Ginny had barely restrained herself from jumping up and down the kitchen at the news.

She had spent the whole year mulling over her decision. Back when he had first been faced with the possibility of becoming a member of the Sisterhood, she had answered 'yes' without a second thought. And while, ultimately, her choice had not changed, she was glad for that year she had been given. She had done her research on the Sisterhood, weighted her options and was finally confident that she had made the right decision.

She sighed and walked towards her window, perching on an old armchair she had "liberated" from Bill's old bedroom tucking her legs beneath her. It was a huge step, she knew. But at the same time, it was finally a part of her life she could control. Ginny had tried her best not to let on, not to show how Voldemort's possession had hurt her. Not to show how damaged she felt, how every night she begged not to have yet another nightmare. It was always the same, she though; she saw herself, standing over the dead bodies of her friends and family, in the Chamber of Secrets, her hands drenched in their blood. And he would be there too, smirking at her, reminding her just how much of a fool she had been.

Ginny was afraid -she was almost certain- that Tom Riddle wouldn't stop smirking in her dreams, wouldn't stop haunting her unless she did something about it. She could no longer be that little, naïve girl she had been at eleven. There was a war coming and she would fight the best she could. She still had no idea on just how her apparent abilities could be used in the war, but she would try to find a way.

Luna, at least, believed she could help. She smiled at the thought of her friend; when she was younger she had wished for a sister. Once she had asked her mother for one; Ginny chuckled at the memory. Molly Weasley loved her children unconditionally, all seven of them, but the thought of an eighth one had almost had her fainting. After the First Task, in the Triwizard Tournament, Ginny had found herself sneaking out to the astronomy tower after curfew. She sometimes liked walking there, when there weren't any classes taught, and simply gaze into the skies. Apparently, so did Luna.

The two girls had been friends since the beginning of last year, when Ginny had seen the blonde Ravenclaw enter one of the carriages to the school alone. She knew what it was like, feeling alone; from what she could recall, Luna was a kind, if quirky girl, so she had followed her into the carriage. Two years later and she still believed it was the best decision she had ever made. Luna was all she could wish for in a friend; she was loyal to a fault and understanding. And very clever, in her own way. She had noticed Ginny's reaction during the Task, how she had kept her hands over her mouth, trying to fight down the urge to command the dragons to stop, to try and help even if she wasn't sure she was able to.

Afterwards, Ginny had been too shocked for words; she had been trying to understand where her abilities came from, what triggered them, since the beginning of the year. She had never expected though -no book had warned her about it- how much her abilities would beg to be used. It was as if she had been poking them with a stick to see if they'd stir and, when they finally did, she had no idea what to do with them.

In her frustration, she had told Luna everything. How she was to choose whether she'd enter the Sisterhood or not, how she had no idea if she'd be able to keep her abilities at bay, now that she was conscious of having them. What if she hurt somebody? That had been her greatest fear since she was eleven, after all; hurting her loved ones. Luna had simply smiled and hugged her, telling her it would all work out in the end. She would help her. "That's what friends are for," she had said.

And finally, there she was, just a few days before returning to Romania. She had absolutely no idea of what would happen after she became part of the Sisterhood. All she knew was that she needed help if she wanted to make something useful of what she had been dealt with and the sisterhood was her best chance at that. So join the Sisterhood she would. She turned from the window and walked out of her room, towards the kitchen in search for some tea. Her decision had been made; there was no use to fret any more.

At the same moment, completely ignorant of the aforementioned events unfolding around the country, Draco Malfoy was being handed a glass of iced tea himself. He was still seated on the same couch at Silbreith, Severus Snape, Neville Longbottom and Harry Potter occupying the couch across the coffee table and opposite him.

Harry had asked Severus to fire-call Neville the moment the oath was completed. The green eyed wizard, still shaken from Draco's decision to take the oath in the first place, felt he could use the support of his brother as he explained what had happened in his life since he had found out he was the true boy who lived. Judging from the empty look that had spread on Draco's face  _again_  -he was afraid the Slytherin's face would get stuck that way permanently if Draco didn't snap out of his shock soon- Neville's presence would indeed be needed. Neville had, after all, managed to snap Draco out of his shock upon learning of Harry's meeting with Merlin, simply by informing Draco that there were crazier things yet to come.

"So, let me get this straight." Draco finally spoke. "You've been training as an alchemist." Harry nodded affirmative. "You were Nicholas Flamel's apprentice, actually." Another nod. "And you turned a Philosopher's Stone into garden fertilizer?" He asked, his voice rising slightly in pitch.

"Yes, I did." Harry answered. They had finally gone through all of his school years, leaving a befuddled Draco to ask any question that popped into his mind.

"And you slew a basilisk. With Gryffindor's sword." Draco stated, not knowing what to think.

"He did." Neville offered, smiling brightly.

"And actually goaded the Dark Lord with your knowledge of a prophecy that has you killing each other?" The blond finally asked.

"Don't remind me." Severus muttered as a response. That, apparently, was all the affirmation the teen needed.

"Merlin, help me." Draco muttered, hiding his face into his palms. Slowly, his shoulder's started shaking in laughter. "How in the world did you keep all that a secret?" Harry smiled too, finally relaxing.

"Through sheer damned luck, probably." Severus and Neville nodded at his left and right. "I told you it was a lot you didn't know."

"Yes, you did." Draco said, his demeanour becoming more serious all of a sudden. "And thank you. For trusting me." He added. "I understand that having me as a friend, considering everything, is quite…"

"What?" Harry asked, looking at the blond as if he had completely lost his mind. "Difficult? Tell you what, watching you take that oath?  _That_  was difficult. You're not that bad, Malfoy." Harry stated, smirking at the gobsmacked expression on Draco's face.

"My son over here has a point." Severus offered, smiling at the young Slytherin.

"And what do you mean friend?" Neville asked, causing Draco's smile to drop. "I don't know how to break this to you, Malfoy, but now that you know everything, you're part of the family. I'm so sorry, we're all crazy." He had said everything with a completely blank face, causing three pairs of eyes to turn towards him in concern.

"I'm so sorry, we're all crazy?" Harry repeated, trying to keep a smirk from his face.

"I didn't mean it as a bad thing!" Neville protested. "More like; we're all crazy, good for us! Whoop-dee-doo." There was no stopping the laughter _that_  declaration caused.

"Whoop-dee-doo?" Severus asked, wiping a few errant tears from his face, still chuckling. "I think we finally found who writes Dumbledore's welcoming speeches."

"Anyway, Nev is right." Harry said, looking towards the lake in mock contemplation. "This family grows very strangely." He noted, turning back to Draco. "Anyway, welcome to the family."

"I've always wanted siblings anyway." Draco admitted, smiling widely. "Even crazy ones." Then his smile turned into a smirk as if he had had a sudden revelation. "Does that make me the oldest brother?"

"Oh, come on!" Harry exclaimed as Neville burst into laughter once more.

"What?" Draco asked, smiling even if he didn't quite get the joke.

"That's what Neville said too, a year and a half ago." Harry stated, whining, his father chuckling softly next to him. "You're only what, a month older than me?"

"More like a month and a half, actually." Draco proclaimed, winking conspiratorially.

"You know what? Fine!" Harry exclaimed, hands raised in surrender.

"Oh, don't be like that, little brother!" Neville said, messing Harry's raven locks.

"Yeah, don't." Draco offered, smirking as he mirrored Neville's movements.

"I give up." Harry stated drily, seething when Severus tussled his hair even more. "Will you stop it with the hair?"

"No." His father simply stated, turning to look at Draco. "I suggest you write to your parents; say Harry invited you to stay for a few weeks. I don't think they'll disagree at this point." He stopped for a second, thinking the situation over. "If your father however does disagree, simply write back I insisted. I would rather you didn't return to your home during the holidays. I know this might sound a little…"

"No, I understand." Draco said, smiling sadly. "I knew when I left today that this would probably be the case. My mother actually hinted it, that I should better not return for a while."

"You're really stuck with us then, brother!" Neville exclaimed, punching Draco playfully in the shoulder.

"And you're welcome to stay over for as long as you want, Neville." Severus added.

"I might just stay over for a few days." Neville said.

"Well of course you will!" Harry stated, smiling widely at the prospect. "Minnie!" He called, the house elf appearing instantly.

"Yes, Master Harry?" She asked, smiling kindly at the boy.

"Could you prepare one more room in the family wing for Neville?" The elf nodded excitedly at the prospect of not one but two guests.

"Of course, Master Harry!" And gracing the two guests of her young master with a wide smile, she disappeared with a soft popping sound.

"There." Harry said, looking towards his friends. Brothers, he amended, the stinging pain that had remained in his chest from his twin's words abating, warmth replacing the unpleasant feelings their confrontation had evoked. "Now, Draco, would you care for a tour of the castle?" The green eyed wizard offered.

"I would love one!" The Slytherin exclaimed, rising from his spot on the couch.

"Lunch will be served at two." Severus reminded them, smiling widely. "I'll be in my office should you need anything, Harry." He added, his attention turning towards his son. "And I think you left the fire burning in your laboratory?" He reminded him, smirking as Harry groaned in frustration.

"I'd forgotten about that." He admitted.

"Are we talking of a potions' lab or…" Draco trailed off, still slightly awed of Harry being an alchemist.

"Or." Neville interjected, chuckling at both his brothers' expressions.

"I was working on something when Dad brought me your letter." Harry explained, starting to walk towards the castle. "After reading what you'd written I just left everything where it was."

"Oh, sorry for…"

"Nonsense!" Harry interrupted him. "I had mostly done some research and only just lit the fire in the forge."

"Forge?" Draco asked, looking from Neville to Harry, waiting for further explanations.

"Apparently, Alchemy is a very hands on area of magic." Neville elaborated. "And since Harry's working on a new project prepare to withstand lengthy, excited and completely incomprehensible speeches on whatever process he's dealing with."

"I'm not that bad." Harry said, looking at Draco. "Don't listen to Nev, really."

"So last time you started talking about sigil making I was supposed to understand everything you had said." Neville deadpanned.

"Sigil making?" Draco asked, eyes widening.

"Yes!" Harry answered excitedly. "It's the process of combining ancient runes, Arithmancy and alchemic signs to create a sigil, a seal of sorts, that facilitates the transcending processes or stabilises the various stages of transmutation such as xanthosis when…"

"It's funny how he still thinks we understand what he's talking about." Neville interrupted a miffed Harry, smiling at Draco who looked a bit lost. "I've lost count of the times his father and I just looked blankly at him, waiting for when he's realise we had understood little other than the articles and the odd pronoun in whatever it was he had just said."

"Erm… wow?" Draco uttered, looking at his youngest brother in awe. "I didn't understand a word you said, but wow."

"Sorry." Harry muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, trying to fight a blush. "I'm quite passionate about Alchemy, I suppose."

"You don't say!" Neville teased him.

"But, I think what I'm working on right now might interest even you, Nev." The green eyed wizard stated.

"Hey, every single thing that comes out of that laboratory of yours interests me." Neville said. "I just don't have a clue on how in the world you make them."

"It's pretty hard to think any part of Alchemy as uninteresting." Draco added, making Harry smile.

"Thanks, guys." He said.

"So, what is it that you're working on?" Draco asked, looking at his brother expectedly.

"I'll tell you over lunch." Harry said. "I haven't told Dad yet either. Now, Draco, this is the main living room…" And the three boys walked around the castle, trying to show everything they could fit into one hour. By the time they returned to the kitchen -all dining rooms were still ridiculously large for four people- they had covered most of Silbreith's galleries, the first two floors, including the library, and the western tower.

"This place is huge!" Draco exclaimed, plopping himself on a chair across Severus who looked at the dazed boy in amusement.

"You'll get used to it, don't worry." He knew that, while Hogwarts was larger, it was always filled with students. Silbreith however wasn't a school, thus the impact it left was much different.

"Says the man that got lost in his own forest." Harry teased, sitting next to his father and across Neville.

"I thought we had agreed not to mention that ever again!" Severus complained, looking at his son accusingly. "And you were right there with me, as I always remind you."

"And I was eight as  _I_  always remind  _you_ , Dad." Harry threw back, smirking as he filled his plate.

"Anyway," Severus said, changing the subject, smiling fondly at his son, "how much of the castle did you manage to see?" And Harry narrated exactly where they had gone, all four wizards enjoying the easy atmosphere. For Draco, whose parents had always turned family dinners into a large and rare event, the change was so pleasant he could simply not stop smiling. The food was delicious, he finally felt completely accepted in a -miracle of miracles- loving family and every threat the shadow of the Dark Lord cast seemed far away at the moment.

At the same time, Harry looked around the table at his patchwork family, thinking once again that, sometimes, sharing the same blood didn't mean all that much. Smiling, he cut himself some of Minnie's chocolate cake -made by Severus' request- and waited till everybody had eaten so that he could explain his plan. As if he had read his mind, his father broached the subject on his own.

"So, Harry, care to tell us what you've been doing in that laboratory of yours?"

"Well, remember how I said I had a plan for this summer? Something that I had first thought long ago?" Harry asked, immediately captivating the attention of his family.

"Yes." Severus said, waiting for his son to elaborate.

"When we first moved into Silbreith, you told me there was one more castle in the area." Harry explained. Severus cocked an eyebrow, still not understanding how alchemy had anything to do with that. "With the war coming, I supposed the Order of the Phoenix will regroup. I expect they'll use either Potter manor or one of Sirius' estates as a base. And I wanted to be able to do the same. I wanted a place where we could go should the worst happen. In a place nobody has heard of before."  
"So you thought buying another castle?" Severus asked, looking at his son dumbfounded. He knew Harry liked to think a few steps ahead, but finding a safe house was completely different than buying a castle.

"I have spent most of my life living in castles." Harry admitted, somewhat sheepishly. "And I suspect that after I reveal that I'm the boy who lived, me relations with my family will become even more strained. My little chat with Adrian showed me that. I'm the younger twin, Dad. I just…"

"You want to do this to completely separate yourself from the Potters, should it come to that." Severus said, nodding in understanding. "You know Silbreith is yours too, right?"

"Silbreith is home." Harry agreed, smiling. "It will always be home. But war is coming; I don't want to risk Silbreith if I can avoid it. And the castle I'm talking about is just a few miles from here; its grounds share borders will Silbreith actually. If the war comes to us, I'd rather it wasn't Silbreith that would be under siege." The green eyed wizard admitted. Silbreith was the one place he had always been himself, where he had grown up, his home and haven. He wouldn't see it touched by the war; Voldemort would never step foot on the grounds if he had any say in this.

"I see." Severus said, a soft smile returning on his lips. He could relate perfectly well with what his son was saying and if buying another castle was what he had in mind to protect their home, he would support him. Proud filled him as he noticed Harry nodding back, an unspoken understanding having been reached between father and son.

"So you're buying a castle?" Neville asked, sharing an amused look with Draco. "Subtle brother. Very subtle."

"Well, what can I say?" Harry wondered, shrugging. "They idea intrigued me since I was seven."

"And how are you planning of acquiring this castle?" Severus asked.

"I've already contacted Nagnok; he said Orbein -that's the name of the castle- has been abandoned since the last heir of the previous owners died in the third goblin rebellion." Harry explained.

"That was over six hundred years ago." Severus noted. "How come the castle was never bought?"

"Well, for one, it's not cheap." The green eyed wizard stated, smirking. "Secondly, after the third goblin rebellion, wizarding families started preferring mansions over castles. As you once told me, Dad, having a castle made you responsible for defending it and the wizards and witches in the vicinity; the third goblin rebellion has the highest death toll of them all. There were few families prepared to take that risk after that. And as the time passed, fewer and fewer people remembered Orbein even existed, unplottable as it is and hidden behind strong wards. I mean, you only knew of its existence due to its proximity to Silbreith." Severus nodded in accordance.

"So you're planning on creating as much gold as you need to buy it?" Draco asked trying to bring alchemy in the image.

"Not gold." Harry said, smirking. "I've been meaning to try it for years you see and… Tell me, do you know what's the most precious metal on the planet?"

"It's not gold?" Draco wondered.

"Platinum?" Neville asked.

"Rhodium, probably." Severus pointed out.

"No, actually." Harry corrected them. "Rhodium is indeed commonly considered the most precious of metals. But there's another metal, much more precious than even rhodium. There are no longer any known sources of the metal and all known items created from it are in the possession of goblins."

"Wait a minute." Severus pleaded, pinching the bridge of his nose in contemplation. "Are you referring to mithril?"

"Yes, I am!" Harry said, his grin widening.

"But it's just a myth!" The potions master protested.

"Excuse me," Neville interrupted them, looking beyond confused, "but what exactly  _is_  mithril?

"It's a precious silvery metal, very lightweight." Harry explained. "Back when there still were sources of mithril ores, it was worth ten times its weight in gold. Now, it's considered priceless. If one believes the stories, it's said to shine like starlight."

"You mean it's real?" Draco asked.

"Of course!" Harry stated. "The problem you see, is that creating it through alchemy is very difficult. Even if you do manage to create the correct alchemic formula, the metal can not be manipulated by magic. It can store it, if you put through a specific process, but it can not be shaped by it. Very peculiar metal."

"So it can be used a shield against spells?" Neville asked, his eyes widening.

"No. Any spell would simply go right through mithril and onto the wearer, I fear. Even if it's one of the metals that can absorb and store magic, as I said, it only attains that ability under specific, lengthy spells." Harry elaborated.

"And you think you can make mithril?" Severus asked.

"I think I can try. Nicholas has left me some quite detailed notes on the subject. Nothing complete of course; he always said that a mentor's work was to guide his apprentice to finding his own answers, not simply supply them." The teen smiled sadly at the memory of the alchemist. "But I did create a Philosopher's Stone, after all." He stated, snapping out of his memories.

"When are you planning to start?" Draco asked, intrigued by the prospect.

"This morning?" Harry offered, chuckling slightly. "Once I get an idea in my head, it's quite difficult to make me stop before I realize it."

"I may have noticed that, yes." Severus muttered.

"Anyway, I'm planning to try my hand in metalsmithing. Presenting the goblins with mithril ores will be far too conspicuous." The green eyed wizard stated.

"Because there are no longer any natural sources." Neville added.

"Exactly. A piece of jewellery however? It might be extremely rare to happen upon one, but it's known to happen." Harry smirked as he observed the stunned expressions on the faces of his family.

"You're going to get completely absorbed by this until you either make it work or I drag you out of your laboratory, aren't you?" His father asked, shaking his head in exasperation.

"One would wonder where I picked that trait from." Harry said, pretending to contemplate on his statement.

"Point taken." Severus offered. And thus a pattern started forming; every morning, Harry would lock himself into his laboratory, scribbling down sigils and notes. He would come out of his lab for lunch, if he remembered to -although Draco or Neville would usually bring a tray to the dungeons for him- and would sometimes be coerced to join his brothers for a quick quidditch practice. What he did unfailingly every morning was take Ghaith out of the stables for a ride through the grounds of Silbreith, the fresh air clearing his head before he returned to his research.

It was two weeks later when Harry had burst out of hid lab, appearing half crazed, his hair in complete disarray and his eyes frantic. He ran towards the kitchen where Draco was preparing a tray for him, Neville and Severus eating their breakfast. His father was the one that recognised the look on his face first.

"You did it, didn't you?" Harry simply smirked and opened his palm. There, a small ingot, no bigger than a quarter of an inch long lay, shining softly, a light reminiscent of starlight.

 


	68. The Pendant

If you asked Harry Potter, making mithril was the most irksome alchemic process of them all. In fact, he was just about ready to compose an essay that would serve as a deterrent for any other alchemist that might decide to follow his footsteps. The title would probably be "The Art of Making Mithril; How to Chip Away at Your Sanity Ingot by Ingot", he mused, repeating the steps necessary to transmute his selected base metal -iron to be precise- into the luminescent mithril. Well, first he would have to turn it into silver -and not by the normal, much simpler process, oh no, because, apparently, the only metal that could work as a base for mithril was an already transmuted, magically enriched piece of the purest silver- before he even considered reaching his end goal.

"I would have fared better had I financially backed an expedition to find a new mithril mine." Harry muttered, drawing the necessary sigils for the process of the floor and ceiling with his wand. For the fourteenth time that day. "My sanity would still be intact, at least." He added, carefully placing the iron in the stone basin in front of him. If this first phase didn't work out perfectly, if there was even the most miniscule trace of impurity in the silver, the second step would never work. It would actually fail quite spectacularly, Harry thought, thinking back on his various failed attempts. The impure silver would melt in the blink of an eye and everything would explode, more likely ending on the ceiling and the much tormented young alchemist.

Technically, it wouldn't have been a problem, checking the produced metal for any impurities. But therein lay one more problem. Other than the actual transmuting process that would follow, the silver ingot was to be untouched by any sort of magic till it had successfully made the change into mithril. And it was a process the silver should be put through immediately, less the magical attributes given to it from the first transmutation faded away. Something that happened within a quarter of an hour tops, barely giving Harry the time he needed to form the sigils for the second part of the process. Of course.

And finally, there was the fact that the mithril produced was only five percent of the mass of the base metal. The green eyed wizard had almost cried when he realised that the base metal would fold into itself, become denser and brighter, until only a tiny portion of the original size remained. One would say that starting out with a bigger chunk of base metal would somehow alleviate that drawback; if only it were that easy, Harry mused, sighing in defeat. The larger the base of any transmutation, be that of a metal or a gem, the more elevated the chances of impurities in the final product. If Harry was simply making gold, of course, he would process it afterwards and be done with it. But no, there where no shortcuts to be taken when making mithril. At least the mithril produced was pure and perfect in every sense. Harry had checked; he had run every test imaginable on that very first ingot he had created, making sure his attempt had been successful before carrying on with the process.

In the very beginning, he had thought of perhaps making a ring. It would still be priceless and much easier to smith than any other part of jewellery. It would certainly reduce the amount of time he had spent repeating the same infernal process. But, as he kept going, his Gryffindor side had emerged, turning his frustration into sheer determination. After putting all this effort into actually coming up with the process of how to make mithril, he would be loath to take the easy way out. No, he was going for a pendant. Which meant he would have to make a gem worthy of the mithril it would be bound with along with the actual chain and clasp. Well, he would cross that bridge when the time was right.

He spent the next hour an a half completing the process, taking the resulting ingot of mithril and placing it on the ever growing pile on the table by the forge. The small pile glittered and shone, bathing that corner of the room in a soft while light. Harry stretched, the crackling sound of his bones popping into place and the dull pain of his muscles proof enough of the time he had spent in his lab. He had been working practically non stop for the past week. It was definitely time for a break.

He put out the torches in the room, the only light coming from the shining metal in the far corner of his lab, and closed the door behind him as he left. He checked his watch; he had missed lunch again. His brothers were going to kill him. Or maybe hold him down while Minnie force fed him and his father. Severus had been just as busy as Harry had been, puzzling over the mystery that was Voldemort's regeneration. He had carried books upon books from his library to his office -Neville and Draco doing most of the carrying while the potions master jotted down notes and ideas, muttering to himself in pure exasperation- trying to come up with a feasible way in which the Dark Lord would be able to keep himself alive even after being hit by the killing curse.

Harry sighed and walked towards the armoury; having already missed lunch meant that either Draco or Neville would bring a tray down to him soon and besides, he wanted to blow off some steam before being in the presence of other people. While he was occupied with making mithril, his mind was utterly focused on that task and that task alone, knowing that one single mishap would turn into an explosion. When he was away from his lab however, he could feel all the stress from the past month returning, weighing heavily on his shoulders.

He had written to Fleur the night before, asking her on how her holidays were going; apparently, she had already applied for the apprentice job in Gringotts and was waiting for their response. Harry was certain she would get the job and had told her son in his last letter, hoping he could encourage her. He had practiced Quidditch with his brothers and he had worked on his summer homework, wanting to get it out of the way quickly. And all the while, his mind was burdened with thoughts on Voldemort. He was certain the Dark Lord was preparing his next move and this time, he was adamant to be a step ahead; no more waiting for Voldemort to strike.

He walked into the armoury, immediately reaching for his longsword. Feeling the familiar weight in his hands, he moved the sword expertly a few times before he moved to the training room for some practice. He hadn't had any time for swordplay since he had arrived home and, as he fell into the first, simple stances for a good warm-up before moving to advanced movements, he realised just how much he had missed it. Physical exercise always helped him concentrate -one more reason why he couldn't wait until he had produced all the mithril he needed and proceeded to actual metalwork- and with all the troubles on his mind, concentration was much needed.

He thought of how his next moves should be, how he could prepare for the war. The Ministry wasn't going to be much help, he knew that. Fudge had already publically discredited Dumbledore and was doing his best to take all the political influence the Headmaster had away, threatening even his chair in Wizegamont. There had to be a way he could find out what was happening in the Ministry, Harry figured, without the information going through Dumbledore first. If he played his cards right, the green eyed wizard hoped to be able to maintain good relations with Fudge; the man was obviously an imbecile, Harry thought executing a rather vicious upwards slash, but he  _was_  the Minister.

Then there was the matter of revealing his identity as the boy who lived. Adrian might have treated him terribly the past few days -Harry activated the training dummies with a swift jab of his wand at the thought of his twin- but he was in danger. Revealing himself as the boy who lived could both benefit and harm his twin, depending on how Adrian took the news. Up to last month, Harry had hoped his twin would be relieved; he had fully expected his twin to be pissed, probably throw in a curse or two, but ultimately feel glad to get that weight off his shoulders. Now, however, he was afraid an unmasking might have the exact opposite effect. What if Adrian went and did something rush and completely idiotic to prove he was still the better wizard? Harry wanted his twin to learn a few lessons about humility, that was for sure, but, no matter how mad at him he may be, he would never wish him dead. And Voldemort would not as much as bat an eyelid as he would kill him.

Then there was Voldemort himself, Harry thought, kicking a training dummy that had moved too close to him backwards with all his strength before charging at it. The Dark Lord had remained uncharacteristically quiet; for a man that had ordered his followers to place the Dark Mark out in the open for everyone to see when they attacked, he had strangely opted on not doing a single overt move as of yet. That could only mean the man was planning something while regrouping; Harry had a feeling he wouldn't like that something at all. And while he wanted to be the one to announce the news of him being the boy who lived, Severus was certain -and so was he- that whatever had kept Voldemort alive might be the key to his permanent downfall. Wouldn't it be better if they found what it was and silently worked in the shadows till it was time to strike?

As he charged towards the closest dummy, a frustrated snarl escaping his lips, he completely missed the three figures that were silently observing him from the corridor outside the room. Draco and Neville had decided to pull Severus out of his office and then drag Harry out of his lab if necessary. They both needed a break and it was unlikely they would stop on their own volition.

"Should Harry even be handling a sword right now?" Neville asked, looking at his younger brother, the expression on his face something between mild amusement and alarm.

"He does seem a bit frustrated." Severus noted, smiling knowingly; he tended to react similarly when under stress after all and Harry seemed to have picked up that trait.

"Besides, do  _you_  want to be the one to approach him and ask if he'd rather leave sword practice for another time?" Draco asked, watching Harry lobbing the head off a training dummy in glee.

"I'm not going anywhere near him while he's holding that sword." Neville declared, shaking his head. "You're free to try if you wish so!"

"No, I'd rather not." Draco stated.

"We could always…" Severus muttered, pulling out his wand and deactivating the training dummies. The dummies froze instantly and Harry, who was caught mid-stride, his sword in a downward slash, cut right through the one closest to him, having presumed it would move backwards.

"What?" He asked himself confused, turning towards the door, smiling sheepishly as he caught sight of his family standing by the door.

"Working your way through the dummies?" The potions master asked, waving his wand towards the fallen suit of armour, repairing it.

"I'll have you know," Harry said, putting his sword back to its proper place, "that alchemy can be very frustrating."

"I'll take your word for it." Neville stated, smirking at his brother.

"So, you got that much frustrated because of alchemy." Severus said, arms folded in front of his chest, clearly stating he didn't believe that to be true.

"Because of alchemy too." Harry clarified, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "I just started thinking of everything that has happened since Voldemort returned and I just felt like…"

"Lobbing some heads off." Neville completed his sentence, Draco chuckling next to him.

"Well, yes." Harry admitted, shrugging dismissively.

"Why do I get the feeling this isn't the first time this has happened?" The blond Slytherin asked.

"Because it's not." Severus offered while Harry rolled his eyes at the whole exchange.

"Can you blame me?" Harry asked, smiling despite his previous trail of thought. "Anyway, I'm going to take a shower."

"And then lunch." Draco stated, his stance authoritative, his eyes determined.

"I thought I missed lunch." Harry admitted, checking at his watch once again.

"You did, technically." Neville agreed. "But since your father over here missed lunch too, Draco and I decided to get you two before eating ourselves."

"Which means we're starving, so if you take more than ten minutes in the shower I won't be held responsible for my actions." Draco cautioned.

"Fine, fine." Harry said, smiling slightly, walking towards them and out of the training room. "I'll be at the kitchen in twenty minutes." And not wanting Draco to hex him out of the shower, he did as promised.

"So, Harry," Severus said over dessert, "has Nagonok contacted you yet with the information you asked for Orbein?"

"He said he would send me the details by tomorrow morning." Harry explained. "But I could tell you some historic information about the castle, if you'd like."

"Sure!" Neville answered for all three of them.

"So Orbein, as every castle, wasn't built at once. Construction started during the late twelfth century and the castle kept expanding rapidly for the next two centuries. The family that owned it was a dark one…" Harry explained.

"They where?" Neville asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Yes." Harry admitted. "But bear in mind that what we consider dark magic today and what dark magic was eight hundred years ago is a completely deferent thing." The green eyed wizard continued noting his brothers' confused stares. "What I mean is that the subject of defence against the dark magic is technically considered a part of the Dark Arts too. The fact that the Ministry has later classified defence as a branch separate of the offence is a different thing altogether. Strictly speaking, all the counter-curses we learn at Hogwarts are considered dark spells too. That's pretty much how I got my dark magic apprenticeship mark."

"I had forgotten about that." Neville said, shaking his head.

"I think that didn't happen till the fifteenth century." Draco muttered. "Or something like that. I'm almost certain Binns mentioned something of the sort last term."

"The classification of defence against the dark arts as a neutral branch of magic was a part of the laws established during the educational reformation in 1496." Severus said, smiling. "Remind me to award five points to Slytherin come next term; it's rare to find a student even partially awake in Binns classes nowadays."

"There are parts of wizarding history that are much more interesting than the goblin revolts, I suppose." Neville stated.

"I wonder why professor Pinns is still teaching." Harry mumbled. "I have learned more things from Dad and my Ancient Studies' class than in the four years of Binns' classes."

"I think Dumbledore has grown attached." Severus said, shaking his head in exasperation. "Binns was his teacher too when he was a student. When Binns was alive, I mean."

"So we get to suffer as he suffered?" Harry asked his head falling on the desk.

"Yes, basically." His father agreed, smirking mischievously.

"Anyway, back to the castle." Neville said, chuckling at his younger brother's mumbled curses towards a certain Headmaster.

"Yes, well, where was I…" Harry wondered, recalling what he wanted to say before the dark magic comment. "Oh, I remembered! The Osteler family, the people that owned the castle, where considered a dark family; at the time that meant they were adept in duelling and battle related magic. In contrast, a light magic family would be one consisting of healers and masters of charms."

"That makes some sense, I suppose." Draco commented.

"It was the Middle Ages; the classification between light and dark magic was much less defined." Severus stated, slipping into teacher mode.

"Thank you, professor Dad." Harry said, smiling softly, before carrying on. "As I was saying, after the death of the last member of the Ostelers and due to a clause that protected the house from falling into the hands of distant relatives, Orbein fell to the hands of the Ministry. From what Nagnok told me, due to the increasing demand for manors instead of castles amidst the wizarding families of the country, the castle remained in the possession of the Ministry for the next two hundred years. Until, of course, the fifth goblin revolt."

"Merlin." Draco muttered, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "More goblin revolts."

"Just the one." Harry assured the blond. "Anyway, the fifth goblin revolt, even if it did have a much lower death toll, almost brought the country's economy to its knees. The Ministry needed gold and started selling out its assets; the castles such as Orbein where the first to go."

"And who bought the rights to the castles?" Severus asked intrigued.

"The only ones with gold to spare. The goblins." Harry answered, grinning impishly.

"Of course." Neville stated chuckling.

"So, Orbein now is…"

"Property of Gringotts?" Harry asked, completing his father's sentence. "Yes, it is. And it has remained property of Gringotts since it was bought. The relations between wizards and goblins were tentative at best for yet another two hundred years after Gringotts purchased Orbein and, by that time, few people remembered the castle existed, let alone where interested in buying it."

"Until  _you_  showed up." Draco added.

"Yes." Harry agreed. "And according to Nagnok, many of the family heirlooms might still be in the castle. There where no records of relatives claiming them -except for some pieces of furniture that were given away after the reading of the original will. Of course it's hard to say the state of the castle until taking its wards apart." He explained.

"How so?" Neville asked.

"Part of the wards disguises the castle as a pile of rubble anyway." The green eyed wizard explained. "In theory, castles owned by magical families have spells cast on them that prevent any serious damage over time. But, considering how long it has been since the spells have been refreshed, Orbein might be in need of some serious renovation."

"At least it's still standing, right?" Draco asked.

"The wards would have collapsed alongside the castle to which they're bound if Orbein wasn't standing." Harry assured him. "But that doesn't mean parts of the roof haven't caved in."

"And you'll only find out after you've brought down the wards?" Neville pressed.

"Yes. After I have bought it first; I have no right trying to alter or take down the wards of any magical property if I don't own it first." Harry elaborated.

"Well, let's hope the roofs are on still in place then." Severus offered, smiling encouragingly.

"Let's." Harry agreed. "I  _really_  don't want making any more mithril than necessary for some time after I finish the pendant; I don't think the training dummies can take it." Harry stated evenly, laughter echoing around the kitchen at his words. The next four days passed slowly. Harry had started working on the chain, finally putting his hammer and anvil in good use -to the great relief of the training dummies- leaving only a small part of the shining metal for the binding of whatever gem he chose for the pendant.

And on the end of the fourth day, the family of four was gathered in Harry's lab, looking at the chain he had made in various degrees of awe. Each separate ring on the chain was finely crafted, no marks or indentations visible. The pendant was quite long and the gem, once added, would hang a little lower than heart level.

"So?" Harry asked, looking at his father and brothers expectedly. He was quite nervous and the silence with which his family regarded the chain didn't help. "What do you think?"

"It's amazing, Harry." The potions master stated, approaching the table where the chain lay as his son exhaled in relief. "I have said it many times before but you have a true talent for alchemy. And metalsmithing, from what I can see." He smiled and hugged his son.

"That's bloody brilliant, that's what it is!" Neville exclaimed, touching the chain softly as if afraid he would break it.

"It's the most remarkable piece of jewellery I have ever seen." Draco said, his reaction less loud than Neville's but holding exactly the same sentiment. The Slytherin smiled at his youngest brother. "And I have my mother's collection to compare it too, so trust me, I should know. Congratulations, Harry!" He said and hugged his brother too, after Severus released him to approach the mithril chain.

"Yeah, congratulations, brother!" Neville offered, throwing his arms around both of his brothers for a few moments.

"Have you thought what type of gem you'll use?" Severus asked, smiling at the unfolding scene.

"Not yet, no." Harry admitted, his own smile bright. "I want it to be something worthy of the chain, but I understand that's quite hard to achieve. And I don't want it to be out of proportion either." The green eyed wizard added with a grimace. "I have already decided to add a few runes on the binding; a very subtle luck boost to accompany the pendant."

"You can do that?" Draco asked, his eyes widening.

"After I finish this pendant," Harry said, "I'm planning to design a few alchemic charms for all of us. A subtle luck boost is the least of what we might need come the war." Severus nodded in accordance recalling the charm Harry had gifted him four Christmases ago.

"That's a great idea." The potions master agreed, wondering what his son would come up with this time. "And I would like you to work on your second animagus transformation, if you find the time; I plan on teaching you the self levitation charm too, but a bird is much less inconspicuous than a flying wizard."

"You do have a point there." Harry agreed, smiling.

"Excuse me?" Draco asked, his eyes widening comically. " _Second_  animagus transformation?"

"Oh, yeah." Neville said and explained what Harry had told him a year ago when he too had been shocked into silence by the idea of a secondary animagus transformation.

"And maybe you two would be interested into trying your hand at animagus transformations too?" Harry asked, smiling at his two brothers. "You think you could make the potion, Dad?"

"Of course I can." Severus said. "Just know, boys, that animagus transformations are not an area of magic to be trifled with. It's difficult to get it to work."

"We could try, you think?" Draco asked, still not daring to hope.

"Really?" Neville inquired, looking from Harry to Severus and back.

"I don't see why not. Harry had mentioned you might like to try it and I would have asked you myself anyway, hadn't he beaten me to it." The potions master assured them. At age fifteen, the two teens would be able to handle the transformation quite well, he knew, as long as they showed determination. From their astonished and joyful looks, Severus figured that willingness to learn would not be an issue. "I will have the potion ready in a few days, if you'd like to take it." The two boys shared a look before turning back to the potions master.

"We would!" They chorused, making Severus and Harry chuckle.

"Brilliant!" Harry exclaimed, looking through the pages of a large tome concerning various gems. His eyes travelled around the room, falling on Draco's gift from last Christmas. It was the full moon tonight, he noted; an excellent night for some very specific types of gems… Well, he figured flipping the pages to find the gemstone he had in mind, since he was on the ambitious theme anyway… "Aha!"

"What?" Severus asked, looking startled at his son's exclamation.

"I found the gem I'm going to use." Harry explained, the sparkle in his eyes evident. "And I need you all to step out for the next, oh, let's say six, seven hours?"

"It's already ten, Harry." Severus reminded his son. "Can't the gem wait till the morning?"

"If it does wait, it will have to be for almost a month." Harry said, stretching, rubbing his right shoulder.

"The full moon?" The potions master asked, understanding what Harry was referring to even if he didn't know just what effect could the moon have on alchemy.

"Exactly." Harry said, his eyes trailing over the lab for the ingredients he would need, murmuring as he moved around the room. "Brass basin, brass basin, where did I put you?"

"Top self on the bookcase on your left." The potions master offered, leading the confused Neville and Draco out the room. "I'm making you sleep for the whole day tomorrow." And he closed the door behind him, not leaving his son time to protest. Harry, on his part, shook his head smiling fondly as he gathered everything he would need along with a chunk of coal for the base of the gem. It was going to be a long night, he knew.

The young alchemist worked diligently through the night, only managing to complete the transmutation by the time the moon was setting. He smiled tiredly, collapsing on the armchair in front of the fireplace, looking at the gem inside the basin. He sighed, sitting further back into the chair, basking in the glow of the fire that wasn't coming just from the forge but from the basin too. He only allowed himself a few minutes of rest before rising up to resume his work on the stone, thinking that he would take his father's offer and sleep the whole day after all.

Five hours later Harry was practically asleep on his feet when his father knocked on his door. The green eyed wizard smiled once again, placing the pendant in the box he had prepared for it before he had started working on the actual chain. He covered it carefully with the deep red damask he had placed inside the box and closed it, walking to the door.

"Good morning, Harry." The potions master said, looking from his son's tired eyes to the meticulously carved box in his hands.

"'morning, Dad." Harry said, yawning. "I finished it!" He exclaimed, rising the box a little higher.

"Neville and Draco are in the kitchen, if you'd like to show it to them." Harry nodded but didn't move.

"Would you… would you like seeing it first?" The green eyed wizard asked softly, one hand resting on the lid of the box. Severus smiled widely, nodding once; from since he was a toddler till this very day, Harry had always shown whatever it was he made to him first, before everyone else. The potions master smiled even wider, somehow knowing that that specific part of their relationship would probably remain more or less unchanged in time.

"Of course, Harry." He said as Harry led him back to his lab, placing the box on the table. Smiling shyly, suddenly feeling nervous, Harry opened the lid on the box, uncovering the pendant beneath the thick cloth. Judging from his father's sudden intake of breath, Harry figured, he had nothing to worry about.

"It's a…"

"Fire diamond." Severus said, looking at the gem as if hypnotised. There, hanging from the brilliant mithril chain, stood a deep red gem. It was as large as a pigeon's egg and shaped similarly, it's many facets doing much more than reflecting the silvery light of the chain. Because honouring its name, the gem shone softly on its own; it was the light of flames, the diamond shining like burning coal but in a deeper crimson hue. "How…"

"The full moon." Harry explained. "And a modified transmutation from the one used for red diamonds. Also some quite taxing spells." The teen stated, yawning deeply once again. "Merlin, I need sleep!"

"Yes, of course." Severus said, his eyes snapping from the gem to his son in concern. "You know, I have given up on coming up with ways to understand how you do half the things you do." He admitted, enveloping his son in his arms. "But Harry, this is brilliant. Mithril, the diamond… everything."

"And now, to trade it with a castle." Harry said playfully, and for a second Severus considered if they needed the castle that much. "I can always make more mithil." Harry stated, chuckling softly, correctly reading the expression on his father's face. "But the war won't wait." The potions master chuckled.

"You can always make more mithril," he repeated, shaking his head as he thought there couldn't have possibly been a father that had had similar conversations with his son ever. He sobered up quickly, looking at his son in earnest; he had grown, Severus realised, his mind briefly flickering back to the image of a two year old baby and then to the image of an eight year old boy after his first alchemy lesson. And now, there he was, his son, the master alchemist.

"Dad?" Harry asked, looking at his father with concern. But then again, Severus thought, throwing an arm over his son's shoulders to bring him close, no mater how much he grew, Harry would always be just that; his son. He would always see that little boy in him; and that was a great thing, he decided.

"I'm fine." Severus stated. "More than fine, actually. So, why don't we show this to Draco and Neville before you head to your room for some sleep? I'm sure you pass the opportunity to explain what a fire diamond is, before you rest for the day." Harry smirked and nodded, picking up the box with the pendant and resealing it.

"They're in the kitchen, you said?" They were, so that was where father and son headed. The green eyed wizard proudly displayed the chain and the diamond to his brothers, the teens sharing a look of awed disbelief before firing questions at him. Harry simply raised his hands to stop the barrage of questions thrown his way, deciding to explain what the diamond actually was before he did anything else. Severus handed him a glass of orange juice while Minnie placed a plate filled with pancakes in front on him, her look clearly stating that not eating them would mean severe repercussions would befall him.

"But what is it?" Neville eventually asked, his eyes trailed on the stone, feeling mesmerised by the shimmering diamond.

"It's a fire diamond!" Draco exclaimed, staring at it wide eyed, blinking slowly as if he thought he would soon wake up and find this all a dream. "My mother has earrings with fire diamonds; they're tiny, family heirlooms and worth more than the rest of her jewellery put together."

"But why are they so expensive?" Neville asked, smiling already even if he didn't have the whole story.

"They're extremely rare, that's why." Harry explained. "Fire diamonds are part of a group of gemstones that are naturally infused with magic. They are rare, small and currently only mined in Africa; only two or three gems are produced every year, most under a carat in size. The largest fire diamond in the world is about twice the size of this one, I think." Harry said using his fork to point at the one he had created for his pendant.

"Still, this is… I don't even know what this is! Amazing! Bloody brilliant!" Neville exclaimed, touching the stone carefully, as if afraid he'd get burned.

"If anything is ever going to get you a castle, that would be it!" Draco agreed, his smile widening as he too touched the shimmering pendant.

"We should arrange a meeting with Nganok as soon as possible." Severus added, admiring the result of his son's obvious skill in metalwork and alchemy. "He already sent you the financial reports concerning Orbein and I believe this pendant will mean more to them than all the castles the Ministry has ever…" The potions master's voice trailed off as he turned to look at his son; Harry had fallen asleep next to his plate, most of the pancakes still untouched.

Severus smiled at his sleeping son and pointed him to the other two teen boys in the room. Neville and Draco immediately fell silent while the potions master softly nudged Harry awake. Sleepy green eyes met black as Harry stood up from his seat, looked around the room sluggishly, took a bite of his pancakes and left the kitchen for his room, practically asleep on his feet, muttering a soft "good night" to his amused family.

After sleeping for eighteen hours straight and a hearty breakfast, Harry contacted Nagnok and asked for an appraising of the pendant in Gringotts. He didn't exactly specify what it was that he thought to sell; he had just pointed out that it was a very valuable object that he hoped to sell to cover some of the amount of Orbein's worth. He neglected to state exactly how much gold that amount amassed to, of course.

The four wizards walked into Gringotts that very same day, Harry carrying a leather briefcase in which the thin wooden box with the pendant lay. He had thought it would be difficult to part with the pendant and, in all truth, he would have been delighted to keep it under any other circumstances. But no jewel in the world, not even a pendant such as the one he had created, would ever mean more to him than the safety of his family during the coming war and the protection of the halls of Silbreith. Plus, as he had admitted to Severus while they were waiting for Draco and Neville to get dressed, a part of him wanted to watch the faces of the goblins as they laid eyes on the pendant.

"Hello, Mr. Potter, Mr. Snape." Nagnok greeted the two wizards before turning to the other members of the company. "Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Malfoy too, I see. Will they be accompanying us today?"

"Hello to you too, Nagnok-nûr." Harry greeted the goblin. "And yes, they will be joining us today. Both have my full trust, as well as Severus'."

"Very well." The goblin said, bowing slightly. "If you'd follow me." And they did, walking through the corridors in silence, finally reaching the office of a goblin by the name Gudur, who was apparently specialized in appraising valuable objects for the bank. Harry allowed Nagnok to make the introductions and took his place across Gudur. The goblin was older than Nagnok, with thin, silver hair and a serious face.

"It's a pleasure to meet you Gudur- nûr." Harry said, nodding politely at the goblin opposite him.

"Likewise, Mr. Potter." Gudur straightened the documents in front of him and gave them a cursory glance before addressing Harry once more. "Nagnok explained you wish to have a certain object in your possession with the purpose to later sell it. Is that correct?"

"That would be the case, yes." Harry agreed, the corners of his lips twitching upwards ever so little. He was well aware the goblin would try to conduct an interrogation of sorts to determine how he had acquired the object he wished to sell and, most importantly, why he wanted to sell it. The goblins had managed to keep Gringotts thriving for so long exactly because they had managed to conduct their business without ever being sued for fencing stolen objects or anything of the sort.

"From what I have seen of your accounts your vaults are overflowing with gold." The goblin pressed on. Draco and Neville shared a nervous look while Severus smirked, waiting for the question and his son's resulting answer. "That led me to believe you didn't have any immediate need for money to start selling your heirlooms."

"Maybe I do not wish to spend any of the gold in my vaults." Harry stated, shrugging noncommittally.

"Very few things would make a noticeable dent in your account, Mr. Potter." Gudur said. "Unless, of course, you're thinking of purchasing a residence." It was obvious that the goblin was trying to determine why Harry needed more gold all of a sudden; the green eyed wizard knew that Nagnok was bound by oath not to reveal the reason why his employer needed more gold. The older goblin was simply fishing for information and had deemed that, without any pressing debts, a residence was the most obvious reason for a need of gold; the fact that had been right was purely coincidental.

"I'm thinking of selling an object I have no use for, Gudur- nûr." Harry said, chuckling softly at the goblin's flummoxed expression. "You will understand why the moment you lay eyes on it."

"It is not…"

"It is not stolen or acquired through any other illegal means." Harry assured the goblin, opening his briefcase and pulling out the box containing the pendant. "It's not even a Potter heirloom, I assure you." Harry carried on, knowing fully well that, even as an adult, unless specified specifically, all Potter heirlooms would pass down to his older twin.

"Then what could it…" The rest of the goblin's sentence was lost in a gasp as Harry opened the box and unfolded the cloth that hid the pendant from view. Both Nagnok and Gudur moved forward, their feet moving on their own volition, feeling the magnetizing pull all precious items held over the goblin race.

"Mithril!" Negnok exclaimed, looking at his employer in complete befuddlement. "How is this possible?"

"This is…" Gudur touched the pendant with a long, clawed finger, his hand trembling. He mumbled something incomprehensible and then fell back to his chair, his eyes wide, his breathing erratic; he looked very much the part of somebody on the verge of apoplexy. "This is real! Real mithril!"

"I would expect it to be, yes." Harry agreed, smirking openly.

"This item… this pendant, is priceless, Mr. Potter!" Gudur exclaimed, a hand placed over his heart. He was looking at the young wizard in front of him with something akin to awe. Or maybe it was hyperventilation taking roots, he couldn't tell.

"And yet," Harry said, "here I am, ready to talk prices." The two goblins turned to face him immediately and the green eyed wizard realised he had their undivided attention; Harry could tell, he had just gotten that much closer to Orbein's gates.

 


	69. Rites Of Passage

The green eyed wizard leaned back on his chair and waited for the goblin across the table to collect his scattered thoughts, a soft smile permanent on his face. Gudur had -after taking a few silent moments to prevent hyperventilation- led the group of wizards and Nagnok to the president's office. Harry had been in the room once before of course, last summer when he had taken his emancipation ritual, but back then the president's presence had been a mere typicality. President Melvoz, a greying, respectable looking goblin, with the pointiest nose Harry had ever seen on one of his race, hadn't spared the younger Potter twin a second thought after he had left his office. Now, he was regretting that decision.

Melvoz could easily recall and name all mithril-made objects in Gringotts' possession. There where not many, after all, and he had devoted years of his life in locating more. Up to that moment, he had been unsuccessful. And suddenly, completely out of the blue, there came a wizard -only a little older than a boy- that held one of those priceless objects in his possession and was willing to let it go. The pendant shone right in front of him, perched on rich cloth, the metal's pull magnetic. At that very moment, Melvoz knew he would give as much gold as the boy asked for. There was no price Harry Potter could name that would be too high.

"Name your price, Mr. Potter." The goblin president said, his voice trembling, his eyes feverish. "Gringotts is ready to part with a handsome amount of gold for this pendant you have brought us." Melvoz added, his lips curling in distaste; only a wizard would be crash enough to put a price in gold for such a masterpiece!

"Gold?" The green eyed wizard in front of him asked, clearly insulted. "You think I would part from this pendant for  _gold_ , Melvoz-nûr?" The goblin in question looked at Harry with renewed surprise and just a trace of respect, slowly replaced by curiosity. It seemed he had misjudged the boy, he thought.

"If not gold, then what?" The goblin asked, suddenly wary of the answer he would receive. The boy's companions did not seem surprised, something that Melvoz knew meant Harry Potter had come prepared to bargain for something much more important that gold from the very beginning.

"First of all, your discretion; if you truly wish to acquire this pendant, you will breathe no word of the transaction ever taking place. All three of you," Harry said, looking at the tree goblins in the room, "will sign a magical contract that will bind you to keep my identity as the previous owner of the pendant, as well as the price I will ask to part from it, a secret."

"This pendant," the president said cautiously, "is not stolen, is it?"

"It is not, as I have already informed Gudur- nûr and Nagnok-nûr. Rest assured that no wizard or witch will come to claim it after you have acquired it." Harry stated once more.

"In that case, we will accept signing the contract." Melvoz declared, not giving the request a second thought; he would have likely heard if any mithril-made jewellery had been stolen. Even if the jewellery had been re-forged, the news of such a quantity of the precious metal being turn into a pendant would have reached some of the many ears he had at ready.

"Good." Harry stated, nodding once decisively. In all truth, he had known the goblin would accept this first term all along. "If you wouldn't mind, I would like you to sign that first contract now; even if you do not agree to my terms, I would prefer this conversation never left this office." Melvoz regarded the teen cautiously before his eyes trailed back to the pendant; Harry had made no move to close the lid of the box in which it rested or hide it from his view and the goblin couldn't help but think it might have been intentional. For the pendant was there, the pull of the mithril held true, and if a simple contract that had no other ramifications but their discretion was required, well, none of the three goblins would be adverse to signing it; a contract like that wasn't a novelty when concerning transactions of such magnitude after all, even if Melvoz hadn't had the need to sigh one since he had been elected president.

"Very well." The goblin conceded and swiftly, the standard contract Gringotts had pre-drawn for situations like this was brought up. It was carefully proofread by the potions master and signed by the three goblins under his watchful gaze. Severus Snape was still young, Melvoz thought, but the wizard had a very intimidating aura about him should he so choose. And once the contract was signed, Harry smiled once again, looking at the president with eyes sparkling almost mischievously.

"And now, back to business." The green eyed wizard said, relaxing back into his chair. "I wonder, would you allow me to be honest, Melvoz-nûr?"

"Considering we're about to discuss business, Mr. Potter, I would encourage it." Harry's smile widened and he nodded once in agreement; he greatly appreciated the straightforwardness of goblins compared to the Ministry's ineffective bureaucracy.

"As you wish." Harry agreed; he glanced briefly towards his father before continuing. They had spent the last night talking, exchanging opinions on what Harry should ask from the goblins; Orbein in itself was as a great prize as any, but the goblins had already admitted the pendant was priceless. Harry had been counting on that, wishing he could use it as a base for the rest of his demands; he would ask for no gold. He would demand no jewels. "Melvoz-nûr, I know you have heard of the Dark Lord's return." The goblin opposite him startled and froze, not having expected such a statement.

"Mr. Potter…" He began numbly, being swiftly interrupted by the teen in question.

"Let's not hide behind our fingers, master goblin." Harry said, his voice calm and his smile still in place. Melvoz would have, perhaps, felt insulted being addressed in such a way by a teen wizard, if it wasn't for the icy undertone in Harry's words. The wizard across the table knew what he was talking about and wasn't going to accept half sentences and excuses for answers. "There is no way you would miss such a thing, Mr. president. You have eyes everywhere, I'm sure you have more trust in Dumbledore's words than the Ministry's and even if goblins have chosen not to get involved in wizards' affairs, you are well aware Voldemort will not return the courtesy. I know you to be much more competent than Minister Fudge, Melvoz-nûr, and I would appreciate it if you didn't treat me as a child. The Minister does, of course," Harry continued, shrugging once, "but I suppose  _that_  can't be helped."

"Continue, Mr. Potter." Melvoz offered, after a moment of contemplation. No, he decided, it wouldn't do to treat Harry Potter as a child; he feared he wouldn't like the results if he underestimated the green eyed wizard.

"So, we agree on not pretending Voldemort is still hiding in a dark hole, somewhere in the corners of the earth?" Harry asked, slight sarcasm colouring his question.

"We agree, Mr. Potter." Melvoz answered; the goblins knew of the Dark Lord's return. Melvoz himself had been convinced the moment Dumbledore had confirmed the whispers that had been circulating since the night Voldemort had returned. The Ministry's swift repudiation of his return ever happening and the immediate witch hunt Fudge had issued against Dumbledore had only served to solidify his belief. The Dark Lord was back and, no matter how much the Ministry denied it, he would soon be on the move again; that wouldn't bode well for anyone in the country -or the continent- and goblins would be no exception.

"Good." Harry said, nodding once. "I know of your conviction not to get involved in wizards' plights, Mr. president, and I shall respect that, even if we both know the Dark Lord will not." He added, repeating his former statement.

"Then, if not our open support, what will you ask, Mr. Potter?" Melvoz asked, a voice in his mind whispering that this was a type of a conversation that hadn't taken place in centuries between wizards and goblins; this was a war conference, disguised as an economical transaction. It was a move one would expect from the goblin side -the side that historically had started such conversations, when they had occurred- and not from a wizard. Especially not a teenaged one that was completely unrelated to the Ministry. And Melvoz couldn't help but feel intrigued.

"I will ask for three things, master goblin." Harry stated, regarding Melvoz carefully; he had thought and thought of how he'd word his requests. He had talked his arguments through with his father and he had brainstormed for hours. He had rehearsed his speech in front of his bathroom mirror through the night, he hadn't managed get more than an hour's worth of sleep last night, wording and rewording his requests until the words fit. It would have to be just right, for goblins were easy to anger and hard to forgive. He would have to show no fear even if he trembled on the inside; this moment right here could make a great difference in the coming war, he knew.

"Name your requests, Mr. Potter." Melvoz prompted, waiting for Harry to elaborate. Harry, taking solace of his family's presence but knowing that this was something he would have to do alone, breathed in deeply and spoke;

"One," he said, looking at the goblin in the eyes, knowing that his first request would be the most difficult for Melvoz to stomach "I am sure you will retain your neutrality during the war. My request however, is this; should things come to it, should Voldemort's plans succeed to the point where he can influence even Gringotts, I would like to be informed of the comings and goings of his Death Eaters in the bank. The Dark Lord, in the height of his power, has used his followers' overflowing vaults to finance his campaign. My first request, Melvoz-nûr, is this; if we reach a point where Voldemort openly uses Gringotts to finance his side again, I want clearance to oversee all transactions that involve the vaults he will use."

"Unacceptable!" Mevloz exclaimed, rising from his seat, his face turning deep red in anger. Gudur and Nagnok had a similar reaction, the later admittedly acting with more restrain, having worked with Harry the longest. "No wizard has such power over Gringotts! Not for over a century! This bank is run solely by goblins and we accept no outward involvement!"

"I understand, Mr. president." Harry agreed, his face completely controlled even if he was cursing inwardly. He had expected Melvoz would react like that, of course, but he just wished the goblin would stop and think first. Well, he would just have to make him understand.

"I do not think you do!" The goblin exclaimed, fist connecting with his desk in anger. "If you did, you would not have dared to make such a request!"

"I'm afraid you did not listen to what I said, master goblin." Harry retorted, bringing his left hand to his temple, rubbing softly in circles with his fingers, trying to fight of the first inklings of a headache. He wished the goblin could stop yelling. He wished he could take a break and grab his sword to slash some of the training dummies back home into oblivion before he continued with this conversation. All he could do however was wait for the goblin to stop speaking so he could explain.

"Oh, I heard you very well, wizard!" The president yelled. "What you ask is unheard off, no wizard…"

"No wizard can get involved in running Gringotts, I know." Harry interrupted him, his gaze steely as he stared the goblin down, his voice as commanding as he could make it. His heart beat like crazy inside his chest and his stomach was clenching but he persevered. He couldn't back down now.

"Than you understand why I will have to politely refuse, wizard!" Melvoz stated, nothing polite in the way he spoke. Severus regarded the fuming goblin in distaste, resisting the urge to curse him with a spell that would cause lasting damage. Draco openly sneered, trying to come up with a way to support his brother without making things worse while Neville simply tried to swallow his words and not verbally abuse the goblin president, possibly kicking him afterwards. Harry, knowing how important this conversation was, took a leaf out of his father's book and looked at the goblin in apathy.

"No, I do not. As I said, you did not listen to what I asked for, master goblin." Harry stated, forcing himself to remain polite. "I said that I wanted clearance over the vaults Voldemort might openly use to finance his efforts only - _only_ \- if things get to a point where he has already managed control over Gringotts. This has happened before, Mr. president, during the First War, you can not deny it. Last time our side had no idea what he did with the gold he had acquired, which officials he was paying off; we can't afford that again." Melvoz still looked against the idea but had at least stopped screaming; he was only vice-president during the First War, only rising to his current position after the death of the previous president, eight years ago, but that didn't mean he did not remember those days.

"What are you saying then, Mr. Potter?"

"I thought I had made myself clear, Melvoz-nûr." Harry stated, looking at the goblin intently; he wouldn't lose his temper. He would repeat his request as many times as needed until he had made himself clear. "If things get so bad that Voldemort manages to control Gringotts, I want access to the vaults you know he uses.  _No other vault_." The green eyed wizard intoned. "I'm not asking clearance for the accounts he used during the previous war. I'm not asking clearance for the accounts he will use while moving in the shadows, even if you  _know_  he's using them. But if he moves out in the open and exerts control over Gringotts as he did in the last war -making that a time when a wizard  _already_  runs Gringotts, master goblin- only then do I request clearance for the vaults he uses. I know goblin magic is woven tightly in each and every ward and, even when in control, Voldemort will be unable to bring these wards now. He's not stupid. He knows that would make Gringotts utterly defenceless, make the bank lose its true worth. And he well knows Gringotts' worth as he did during the last war. That means you will still have access to each and every vault even in the event when he takes control; I expect you would rather work with me in making sure he falls from power, losing such control over your bank in the process, than aid him in retaining it. Was I wrong?"

Melvoz regarded the green eyed wizard with caution. His request was almost unheard off, but his argument was solid. Last time Voldemort had managed to take over Gringotts the goblins had almost been pushed out of it completely. If the Dark Lord had remained in power for a few more months, he would have driven the whole race out of the bank and established his Death Eaters in all the important posts in Gringotts. Even if the war had been won after that, the goblins would have had to fight tooth and nail to regain any semblance of control over the bank.

"Mr. Potter… does raise a valid point." Nagnok muttered, looking at the president, his tone careful. Harry already pictured the huge bonus his financial advisor would receive. Next to him, Gudur nodded in agreement, even if he seemed apprehensive.

"Even if I do accept this request of yours," Melvoz said, his voice low, his expression stern, "it will have to be done quietly. You will sign a contract that will state the exact circumstances under which you will gain access to those vaults. Once the war is over, you will lose any such privileges. All four of you," the goblin continued, looking at the three wizards by Harry, "will sign magical contracts that will ensure no word of this leaves this agreement room. Is that clear, Mr. Potter?"

"I would never dream of keeping such privileges, Melvoz-nûr, nor breathing a word of this conversation. I accept your terms." Harry stated, not allowing his elation shine through his calm façade. The conversation wasn't over yet.

"Agreed, then." The goblin said, hoping he wouldn't come to regret his decision; still he knew, if the Dark Lord ever did manage to take over Gringotts he would welcome any chance he had to overthrow him. And in the off chance Voldemort succeeded where he had failed during the last war, he could always site the contract he would sign as proof of the goblin race's help after the war was won. Should the war be lost, it would not matter; Gringotts would be lost too. And since the Ministry didn't seem keen on making a move towards acknowledging the coming war, young Mr. Potter and what he offered would have to do.

"Agreed." Harry acquiesced, allowing himself a soft smile, knowing that the first and largest hurdle had been overcome.

"If I remember correctly, Mr. Potter, you have yet two more requests to make, though I see not what more you could ask." Melvoz stated, his eyes falling on the ever tempting pendant on his desk.

"The remaining two requests are much simpler, I assure you." Harry offered, breathing deeply before he continued. "During the last war, Muggleborns were targeted by Voldemort and his supporters. Many goblins suffered a similar fate, as you well know." The green eyed teen added, observing Melvoz carefully; judging from the way the goblin's face contorted in anger, the president had not forgotten.

"I'm aware of the fact." He said, voice steely.

"My second request, master goblin, is… a vault." Harry said, causing Melvoz's eyes to widen in confusion.

"What does a vault have to do with anything? You can open a new vault any given day, you know that, Mr. Potter." The goblin stated.

"Not the type of vault I'm talking about." Harry said. "This vault -which I will pay for as if it was any normal vault- will only contain one single thing; a fireplace."

"A fireplace, Mr Potter?" Melvoz asked.

"Yes." The emerald eyed wizard supplied. "Gringotts -as you already know- is the only building in the country than uses its own floo network." Harry reminded the president; it had been one of the things the goblins hade demanded when they took control over the bank; complete separation from the Ministry. "Should the witch hunts recommence, I would like to provide Muggleborns with a safe measure of transport to a safe location. The connection between the fireplaces will not be activated till the time is nigh. The vault containing the fireplace will be guarded with added wards I will place myself to make certain no Death Eater can tread its doors. The goblins of Gringotts will be free to use the fireplace as an escape route too, should the circumstances call for it, of course." Harry added, making sure Melvoz understood how his request would aid his race too.

"On the terms of you providing with a way to ensure Gringotts will not be blamed for aiding fugitives, I will ground you your request." Melvoz offered, seeing the benefits of such a venture. The wizard must have put some serious thought into this conversation, he realized. Still, part of him was confused; wasn't the other Potter twin the one supposed to be taking such measures? Harry Potter wasn't the Boy Who Lived, the president thought, yet there he was, giving up a priceless artefact in preparation for the war.

"I accept your terms." Harry stated, feeling like dancing in joy. He hadn't expected the president to simply agree, yet it was a rational term he had demanded.

"And you can assure me the location the fireplace will lead to will truly be safe?" Melvoz inquired. "If goblins are to use it, I  _must_  be sure."

"And that brings us to my third and final request." Harry said, glad that the goblin had brought the subject up on his own. He opened his briefcase to take out the documents Nagnok had collected for him regarding Orbein and passed them to the president. "There is a certain magical property I have set my eyes on; a castle Gringotts acquired centuries ago, by the name of Orbein."

"Isn't this pushing it, Mr. Potter?" Melvoz asked, looking over the documents in his hands. Orbein was one of the largest magical properties Gringotts owned and had been in goblin possession for centuries. "I understand the value of the pendant, but what you have already requested…" Harry interrupted the goblin by raising his hand, smiling softly. He had guessed that, by the time he broached the subject of Orbein, Melvoz would have been reluctant to give the deeds to the castle up. So -unable to sleep anyway- he had spent the morning in his lab, shaping the remaining shards of the fire diamond he had cut for the pendant into three small, separate gems; they would be enough. He would need a few shards of mithril more, of course, but labouring a little more didn't bother him one bit at this point.

"Tell me, Melvoz-nûr, what would you say if I told you this pendant has a matching ring to go with it?" Judging from the sudden clenching of the goblin's long fingers and his sudden intake of breath, Harry figured he had nothing to fear. He sincerely hoped the roof of Orbein hadn't caved in; he was liable to start hexing people right and left if it had.

It was two days later, after Harry had finished forging the ring he had promised Melvoz that the actual transaction took place. Harry had lost count of how many forms and documents he had signed, his eyes just as tired as Severus' who had gone over each and every one of them before they reached his son. Draco and Neville had been there too, refusing to leave Harry's side especially after witnessing the president's reaction two days before.

After they had left the bank and returned to Silbreith. Harry had literally started jumping up and down in joy, even if he knew sleep would be sparse the next few nights. He had done it. He had actually made the goblin president see things his way!

"You were amazing back there!" Neville exclaimed, reaching for his brother the same time Draco did, effectively tackling him, all three teens ending up in a heap on the floor, laughing maniacally.

"I was this close to hexing him, I swear!" Harry offered, trying to untangle himself from his brothers.

"You weren't the only one." Severus offered, helping his son up. "And Neville is right. You did great Harry." He was regarding his son proudly; Harry was a born leader and as he grew up that trait of his only showed more and more. "You don't need me to tell you how great what you accomplished today is."

"I thought Melvoz was about to combust." Draco said.

"There was a point when I wished he would." Neville added, causing one more round of laughter.

Severus had felt that a round of butterbeers would benefit all four of them. Harry had half a mind to run for his broadsword -maybe even try out a claymore, he was certain he had seen one in the armoury- and imagine all practice dummies in the room where either Melvoz or Voldemort; although he couldn't blame the goblin for wanting the best for his bank, after a week and almost a moth of working non stop, on top of the Triwizard Tournament, he would have rather Melvoz had seen reason before the shouting match. The truth however was, that things could have turned out much worse.

And as it was, just two days before Harry's fifteenth birthday, all documents had been signed and the green eyed teen found himself the owner of a castle. It was just before noon and Harry along his father and brothers had ridden all the way to the part of Silbreith's borders that connected with Orbein's grounds. The wards around the castle were as subtle as they were powerful, Harry realised; he had passed through the same spot hundreds of times, whether it was riding Ghaith or Ares, yet he had always felt the urge to turn around and ride towards the lake every single time he had approached the borders.

"And I had never even realised it was because of magic! Compulsion wards, I tell you!" Harry exclaimed, passing through the wards freely now that he was the legal owner of the castle's grounds. Entering Orbein itself however, would be much more difficult. He could now reach the castle, that was certain, but the wards on the building itself were blood fuelled; all he would be able to see would be ruins, until at least he brought the wards down. The only good thing was that the grounds seemed to have independent wards that had accepted him and any people he brought through the borders of his forests with him. He would have to reinforce those, he decided as he led Ghaith across the borderline between Silbreith and Orbein, his father right next to him on Kadar, Neville and Draco right behind them on Ares and Titan.

"That speaks of good wards, Harry." Severus reminded him. "Fortifying the already existing wards will prove much easier considering how large the grounds of Orbein are." Harry nodded in agreement. When he had first considered acquiring Orbein, he hadn't truly factored the grounds that would come along with the building. Back when the castle was new, the grounds actually contained a small village -through the ruins of which they would have to ride in order to reach the castle- lands of forests, a stream that ended in Silbreth's lake and the steep hills on which the castle was built on.

"If I manage to find house elves willing to enter my service," Harry said, following the path that led through the woods towards the castle, "I would like to see what I can do about the houses of the village. If we do need to shelter people during the war, having extra space will be more than useful." Severus nodded in complete agreement.

"You can always use the help of Silbreith's house elves; you know Minnie will help no matter what you say and the rest of the staff will follow." The potions master thought about the situation at hand as he led Kadar in a slow gallop, the state of the path not allowing any faster pace. "I think Minnie mentioned that her sister's children are in need of a house. She hasn't said if they have found one yet; I know for certain they hadn't up to last month."

"Maybe you should also consider how you're going to connect Orbein and the village to the water network." Draco proposed, joining in the conversation. "Considering how close it is to Silbreith, you will probably have no actual problem with that; you will just need labour hands."

"You could hire goblins for that." Neville offered. "They have undertaken some major works in France, from what my grandma said; she has a friend that bought a house there and she had had to replace all the pipes in an around the house; they cost a pretty knut but they get the job done perfectly." Harry nodded, smiling at his brothers.

"That should probably be the first thing I'll do after I work through the wards." The green eyed wizard agreed, thankful for their support.

"I foresee the need to sign more of these infernal contracts." Severus said, grimacing slightly.

"And I will have to move quickly on that; and we will not inform the goblins where exactly they will be working at, despite the contracts." Harry stated. "Better safe than sorry."  
"Maybe you should make me the Secret Keeper first." Severus offered. They had already agreed that it would be he who would shoulder the secret; well, Severus had decided that and wouldn't budge from said decision. Not that Harry could come up with a better applicant for the job. "That way, even if, against all odds, the goblins find out where they're working at, they will be twice unable to utter a word."

"Agreed." Harry offered, his mind travelling on the wards around Orbein once more and the process he would have to follow to take them down while his family made small talk around him, conversing on how to work on any repairs the castle might need. Harry had gone through the wards of the castle, clearly stated on the documents he had signed when he took the deed of Orbein. They where old and woven into the very foundations of the castle, varying in the areas they protected. It wasn't  _what_ they did however that posed a problem. It was  _how_  they did it; Harry was thankful he had studied magic detection -a subject well beyond what they were taught in Hogwarts- for it was a part of what he'd need to do to actually bring the wards down.

The plan was simple; find where the wards are tethered on the structure and guide your magic through them, making sure they released their hold on the estate. Okay, he admitted, maybe it wasn't that easy after all. He hoped that after all these years they would have somehow faded but, judging from how well the outer wards held, he doubted it.

Replacing the wards around the castle would be based heavily on Severus' experience; the potions master had assisted Dumbledore in more than one occasion while he reinforced the wards around the school and he knew just the spells he would have to use. Harry had, over the years, created a small collection of additional wards he wanted to place on Orbein, but he knew the process would be long. Warding a castle was a tiring occupation, and Harry couldn't afford a magical burn out at this point.

It was an hour of their slow, steady pace through the forest later when Harry finally laid eyes on the village; it was made out of white stone, mostly, and wood, roofs having caved in but walls still standing. It wasn't more than thirty, maybe forty houses, but it had a large main road and the structures of the buildings seemed sturdy enough.

"Oh, wow." Neville muttered, his eyes travelling upwards, towards the high, rocky hills in the distance, behind the village. There, at the end of a winding road, lay the skeleton of Orbein. White stones outlined the grand building that was perched on the hills, seemingly climbing them, visible even from such a distance.

"When you take down the wards, we should probably return here to take a good look at the castle." Severus offered, his eye scanning the area ahead.

"Let me take the wards down first and then we'll see." Harry offered, guiding Ghaith thought the village faster than before; he could feel the wards even from that far away and he didn't wish to become too hopeful before he had studied them up close. One hour later, the had arrived in front of the main walls, or what was visible of them; even Harry, who was the legal owner of the castle, felt compelled to turn around on his hills and leave. That wouldn't do at all, he decided as he climbed down from Ghaith, passing the war unicorn's reigns to his father.

"Can you feel the wards?" Neville asked, after giving his younger brother a few moments of silent contemplation.

"I have." Harry stated, sitting down on the ground, crossing his legs and calming his breathing. He vaguely registered his father and brothers giving him the space he needed to concentrate. It was a good thing, truly, that bringing things down was much easier than building them, he thought, as he focused and mentally followed the traces of magic that surrounded Orbein towards their root. He knew that, us the owner, he would have to be the one to do this. Remembering his father's instructions, he followed the magic back to its source, slowly finding the first spot where one of the wards was tethered to. The spell seemed hooked on the rocks beneath the castle and, after trying to bring it down through brute force, he decided to take a different path; what if he simply "unhooked" the magic from where it was anchored? Could that work?

It took some unsuccessful efforts before the binds even budged but suddenly, hardly giving Harry any warning, the strain of magic he was working on uncoiled and disappeared, leaving nothing but the stones where it was once tied onto behind. His hopes rising, Harry carried on, following another strand of magic.

Unbeknowst to him, the hours trickled by as he toiled, his family silently observing him from a few feet away, looking from his and back to the castle for any change. While nothing was visible yet, Severus assured the two teens that the wards were slowly getting weaker. It was six hours later when the wards actually flickered for a second, the three wizards that hadn't snapped their eyes closed catching their breaths as they found themselves under the shadow of huge white walls for the fragment of a second.

"Did you see that?" Draco whispered, his eyes falling back on Harry; the green eyed wizard was drenched in sweat, despite the soft breeze, rave hair sticking on his forehead. Still, he showed no signs of stopping, his expression determined as he stood silent.

"I think we all did." Severus offered as Neville rubbed his eyes in shock. "It won't be long now." It took two more hours, the sun having almost set, when Harry finally took down the final part of the wards. The three gasps behind him were all the confirmation he needed; it had worked. He smiled softly, ignoring his headache and his aching muscles, opening his eyes tentatively; the castle had accepted him, he realised, the moment he faced the tall walls in front of him.

He was standing to close to them to see the actual castle behind them but he couldn't help but smile; white-gray and towering above him in a height of over thirty feet, the fortifications where a clear sign that Orbein was a castle built for battles; in dire contrast to Silbreith, which had acted as a house long after its fighting days, Orbein hadn't been modified to suit the modern world.

"The walls are huge!" Neville exclaimed, looking up, squinting in an effort to see behind the towering mass.

"And judging from their condition, the wards did an excellent job in preserving them." Severus stated, approaching his son with a bottle of water; Harry accepted it gratefully, along with the helping hand as he stood up. "And so did you." The potions master added, holding his son close. Neville and Draco moved to follow his example -albeit more vividly- causing Harry to hide behind his father, using him as a human shield.

"I'm tired, sore and covered in sweat; you're not tackling me to the ground, damn it!" He exclaimed, causing the two teens to look at each other in shock before his words registered, when they allowed themselves a few moments of laughing at their brother's expense.

"Approaching you carefully." Draco finally intoned, walking slowly towards Harry, still smiling widely. Both he and Neville managed to congratulate their brother without ending up on the ground as the younger wizard had feared.

"What say you we find the gate?" Harry eventually asked, stretching his legs. He still couldn't believe he had done it but the proof was there, hidden behind tall walls. "I would like to finally see Orbein."

"Agreed." Severus offered, walking eastwards where he had spotted what had originally appeared to be the ruins of a gate. "The fortifications are exceptional." He stated, after explaining what he had seen.

"Let's hope the castle is too." Harry offered, feeling exhausted but determined not to return to Silbreith before laying eyes on his castle. When they finally reached the gates -the wood appearing to be in pristine condition at the other end of a sturdy looking bridge over the castle's mot- Severus pulled out his wand and cast a silent spell that lowered the gate. This was it, Harry thought as the ancient mechanism complained, iron chains lowering the heavy gate and completing the bridge. Taking a few steps forward, he took the first look at Orbein.

"I'll be damned!" Severus muttered next to him as a wide smile appeared on his face. He walked even further towards the castle, stepping over the bridge and the gates, taking in the expanse that was once the castle's gardens and the actual building behind them.

There, perched on steep hills and made from the same almost-but-not-quite white stone stood Orbein. It was large, about the same size as Silbreith from what he could tell but taller, turrets and towers in perfect condition, large statues of kings long dead carved on each side of the great gates further ahead. Orbein seemed as if it had walked out of one of the tales Harry had read as a child and the green eyed wizard let his eyes roam over the structure. High arches and windows, green moss colouring the white stone where the drainpipes shaped as dragon heads where and strong walls.

"Merlin's beard." Neville whispered while Draco simply covered his mouth with his hand, gray eyes wide.

"It's perfect." Harry muttered, looking at the tree wizards by him in awe, a shocked grin returning. Orbein was imposing and battle ready. It was magnificent. It's  _mine_ , Harry added inwardly, openly laughing at the thought. He had really done it.

Severus would later deny it, but the fact was that he jumped up and down in joy hugging first his son and then Draco and Neville, all three shouting and hollering, pointing at the castle like five year old boys. He would also deny he had ran next to the three teens in a race towards the inner gates, laughing all the way, standing right next to his son as he spelled the doors open.

"Unbelievable." Draco said, offering his first coherent phrase after he had entered the castle. The hall was barren from furniture but larger than Silbreiths, the arched ceiling standing high above their heads, two more great statues at the far corner of the room staring back at them through empty, marble eyes. The room was illuminated by windows high over the main doors, the stained glass once there now missing. Minor problems, Harry realised, chuckling lightly as he moved further into his castle.

"There's nothing to it then." He declared. "We have to take a quick look around before it gets too dark!"

"You won't find me disagreeing!" Neville exclaimed, gasping as his voice reverberated around the room.

"This is… It's stunning." Severus offered, smiling at his son as proud as ever. "Stay close." He warned the teens as he followed his son who had decided to walk through the first floor for the evening, mapping the rooms they passed. Harry noted every blemish in the walls that would need fixing, imagining what the rooms could have once be used for -only few had furniture in them but many had large fireplaces that put even the ones of Hogwarts to shame, their style not having changed according to the tastes of owners of the Victorian era- gasping audibly when he accidentally walked into a room that must have once been where counsels were held, judging from the large wooden table and the ancient maps of the area Severus had discovered by the edge of the room.

There was a room with a glass dome for a roof, only its metal skeleton still in place, the small shards of glass, once shaped like dragon scales on the floor. Harry swore to fix what he could of the roof on first light tomorrow, finding himself loath to leave the castle only after an hour of exploration. As it was, the would likely find themselves in the woods by nightfall and Severus didn't want to risk staying in the castle that night, not without having looked through it whole first.

That night was spent in celebration back in Silbreith, with Harry collapsing on his bed dead tired but feeling lighter than he had in months. With the wards down, the four wizards apparated in front of Orbein's gates by first light the next morning. And while Harry had kept his promise to himself and fixed the glass roof, it was a completely different room that ended up capturing his attention. They had finally gone through the ground floor and moved up the stairs from the great hall a little before noon, deciding to see how many floors up the castle went before walking through the dungeons. It proved to be a wise decision, even if they never truly made it past the first floor. For, one hour into their exploration and after locating two large galleries and the entrance to three towers, Neville had pushed through a pair of large doors and found himself into a room that had taken his breath away.

"Hey, guys." He whispered, pointing trough the doors but not daring enter the room. "I think I found the library?" He stated, causing Harry to drop a candelabra he was examining and run towards his brown haired brother.

"Bloody hell." He cursed, gulping audibly while Severus and Draco ran to stand next to him.

"Yeah, that." Severus offered, his eyes widening, jaw slack uncharacteristically.

"They left the books?" Draco wondered out loud, while Harry walked into the room numbly. One, two, three floors of bookcases, Harry counted, the layout of the library similar to that of Silbreith, albeit looking as medieval as the one back at Hogwarts; he was torn between openly weeping in joy and falling on his knees to praise the gods.

"I… I can't…" The green eyed wizard stuttered, looking around the room. "Dad, can I call dibs on this room?" He finally asked, his brain short-circuiting. Feeling shocked himself, Severus had to mull over his son's question for a few moments before bursting into laughter.

"Harry, you have called dibs on the whole castle. Orbein is yours, remember?" He asked, Neville and Draco snickering next to him.

"Oh, that's right…" Harry mumbled, his eyes still wide; it took yet a few more seconds for his own statement to hit home. " _What am I even saying_?" He wondered out loud, joining his family in a round of uproarious laughter.

"I still can't believe they left all these books behind." Draco exclaimed, his voice coming from somewhere at he second floor of the library where he was perusing some old scrolls.

"They took the tapestries though." Neville stated, disbelief colouring his voice as he noted a piece of fabric still hanging from a wall on the first floor where a woven tapestry must have once stood. "Morons, mate!" He concluded.

"The paper seems in perfect condition." Harry noted, picking up a book on charms reverently; the language was outdated but he had already located two new charms just by passing over the pages. This room was a real treasure. "Somebody in the Osteler family must have cared about their book collection. The protective spells are still strong and the sheer size of it…" He trailed off opening his arms wide as if to point at the books and scrolls around him. "I mean, look at this room!"

"I completely agree." Severus voice echoed from the third floor, his head appearing over the railing, the left side of his dark blue shirt covered in spider webs; the castle was filled with those but none of the four wizards cared. "And I, for one, will be eternally grateful to the fool that left these books behind. By the way, Harry, there is a door leading to an empty room over here; I have no idea what it was used for but the ceilings are high enough for two storey bookcases; maybe you could transfer Nicolas' books here from Gringotts for easier access?"

"Really?" Harry asked, placing the book he was holding back in its proper place before climbing the stairs to the third floor. He had never actually considered moving Nicholas' books from his vault -at first it hurt too much to even consider it and then there was hardly any time to do so- but now that the opportunity presented itself, he found himself wanting to do just that.

"You may have to bring down the wall or, at least, a portion of it to create an open arch, but I don't see why you couldn't do it." Severus stated, pointing at the room he had found to his son.

"Brilliant!" Harry exclaimed, taking in the dimensions of the room, already envisioning the bookcases and the wooden, mobile ladders he would have to install to reach the books higher up. "This is much more than I had hoped for." Harry admitted, looking at his father happily.

"I know!" Severus answered excitedly, the five year old for last afternoon making yet another appearance. "And this floor at least is filled to the brim with books that had been later considered dark by the Ministry; I have no idea how many original works can be found in this room! Some one of a kind, I am certain." Severus stated, his eyes going through the lines of books. Potions, charms and hexes, studies on areas of magic now obscure… The potions master knew he would spend many hours in this room. And as his perusal continued, he found himself in front of a self filled with books dealing with magic that must have been considered dark even back at the , the Ostelers were a dark family, after all, Severus reminded himself, his gaze falling on a book seemingly completely devoted on the art of creating Inferi.

"Is this a book on necromancy?" Harry asked, his voice getting slightly higher as he read the title. "Goblins' gold, it  _is_  a book on necromancy!"

" _Foul Poisons_ ,  _Death Runes_ ," Severus read some of the titles of the books in front of him. " _The Blood Arts_?" He wondered out loud, picking up the book in confusion, flipping it open. "That's some collection, I must admit!"

" _The Dark Arts of the North_ ," Harry read on, " _The Forbidden Arts of Fragmenting the Soul_ , more books on necromancy…" But the sudden intake of air and the sound of a book falling on the floor cut his browsing short. He snapped his attention back at his father, the potions master looking unsteady on his feet, his face almost perfectly white. "Dad, what's wrong?"

"Can you… can you read the title of the last book again?" Severus requested quietly, a hand over his heart. It couldn't be, he told himself. It was impossible, it had to be! The thought alone…

" _The Forbidden Arts of Fragmenting the Soul_." Harry read, as Severus' hand jolted forward, grabbing the book from the self and looking at it dumbfounded for a few seconds before opening it to the index page. It was a small book, thin and covered in black leather, as almost all the books of that specific section of the library. But why was it so important, Harry wondered, his mind working over the title. The forbidden arts of… "Merlin, help us!" Harry whispered, realisation dawning on him.

Meanwhile, as he leaned back to the bookcase behind him for support, Severus was already in the process of reading trough the first chapter of the book; the language was difficult to understand at some points and the procedure described was so terrible even the potion master started feeling nauseous. Any sane man would feel the way, he suspected. But to create something as foul as a Horcrux, sane was probably the last thing you were.

"Merlin, help us!" Severus repeated his son's plea, their gazes locking over the open book.

The same day that revelation took place and on the other side of Europe, a red haired girl was about to receive two visitors she had been expecting for over a year. Ginny Weasley was on cleaning duty in the main warehouse of the dragon shelter where he brother Charlie worked in Romania when she received the news from a breathless Mary; the Hufflepuff girl had returned to the shelter too and had seemingly ran all the way to the warehouse so she could tell Ginny the latest gossip.

"Ginny, did you hear?" She asked, blond hair in complete disarray around her face.

"Hear what?" The redhead asked back, her heart beating a little faster in her chest.

"Witches from Sisterhood are bound for the shelter tonight! Vesper said there's a chance we'll see them during dinner too this time!" Mary exclaimed. "Isn't it exciting?"

"But of course!" Ginny agreed, feeling slightly faint. It was happening. It was really happening!

"I'm off to tell Leonie!" Mary stated, not taking notice of her friend's blanching countenance. She turned around the moment the words left her mouth, leaving a startled Ginny in her wake; the red haired girl leaned on the mop she was holding for support, her knees suddenly weak. A bout of fear sprung from the bottom of her stomach; even if she had expected this would happen, even if she had known the time for her initiation was growing nearer and nearer, now that the moment had finally arrived, she found herself nervous.

It was a leap into the unknown. She had no idea what being a member of the Sisterhood actually entailed, other than training her abilities. Would she have to pass some sort of test? Astrid had mentioned something about a ritual, but that only served to make Ginny that much more nervous; what did she know of rituals? Nothing! What is she failed? What if the witches that arrived that night informed her that they wouldn't accept her after all? She allowed herself to slide on the floor, her hands still holding the mop, not caring of how silly she might look to a passerby.

A thousand things could go wrong, and her nerve-riddled brain was informing her of every last one of them. At the same time. She stayed there, on the floor, for a few more minutes, unmoving, her brain going on overdrive. Only after she forced herself to take a few long breaths did Ginny truly realise what she had been doing; she murmured a curse and stood up. Her legs were still shaking and she felt dizzy as before but she fought all her anxieties away. She had already decided not to lay on the floor and wait for help three years ago; she had done enough of that for a lifetime, Ginny reminded herself. And she would probably hate herself forever if she didn't go through with her initiation.

"Damn it all." She muttered, shaking her head, returning to work, desperate to do something but stand still and scare herself to distraction; even if that meant cleaning the entire warehouse with a toothbrush, she wouldn't allow herself to over-think the situation. "You've already made up your mind, you dolt." She whispered in a bout of self-chastising. In the end, she didn't have to bring out a toothbrush; Charlie, who wanted the shelter to be in excellent condition when the witches of the Sisterhood arrived, had more than enough chores to pass around and Ginny had volunteered for the most of them. By the time she had gone through them all, her muscles complained and there was straw in her hair but she had managed to feel somehow more relaxed than she was the same morning. She had barely made it out of the shower when Leonie had burst through the door, completely ignoring the fact her friend was clad only in a towel.

"They're here! Two of them!" The girl exclaimed. "They're in the guest house right now and will be joining us for dinner!" She only just had noticed Ginny's state of undress, the redhead smiling, slightly amused despite the blush she could feel creeping across her face. "Oh, I'll let you get dressed; but hurry up!"

"Alright." Ginny simply offered as Leonie dashed out the room, either to tell Mary or try to get one more glimpse of the two witches before dinner. The redhead stood motionless for a few more moments, her mind going blank, before he burst in a flurry of movements, getting presentable as swiftly as she could. She recalled the last letter Luna had written her, in answer of her own, worry-filled one; if the Sisterhood didn't think she would make it, her friend had said, they wouldn't have offered her a place amongst them. Trying to concentrate on the fact that Luna was the Ravenclaw between the two of them and she should probably trust her friend's logic more than her own, she combed her hair and left the room, tossing her brush on the bed in her haste.

It was only after she left the dorms that she realised something vital; she had no idea where or when her initiation ritual would take place. The Sisterhood witches -she hoped the Sisterhood had sent Astrid and Michaela, who she had already met- would know, of course, but there was the subject of approaching them before they were swarmed by the staff of the shelter. She didn't want anybody to know of her initiation before it was through; after that, when her status as a member of the Sisterhood was permanent, she would tell her brother immediately. Still, the part o her that still feared she wouldn't make it, didn't want her to breathe a word before all was said and done; if she didn't make it, her family wouldn't have to know. They wouldn't be disappointed with her, not as they had been after her first year. Never again, Ginny decided and walked towards the guest house. It was at the other side of the shelter, right behind the main complex as it had only been added ten years ago, long after the shelter had been built.

As it turned out, meeting with the two witches wasn't as hard as she feared it would be; two cloaked figures were exiting the guest house as Ginny approached, passing by a startled Edward and towards the redhead. Ginny stood frozen for a few moments as the witches approached her, only moving when she recognised one of them; Michaela, the one that had given her novice rune. She smiled slightly, and started walking their way.

"Hello, Michaela." She offered, not knowing what she could possibly say in a situation like this.

"Hello, Ginny." The dark skinned witch responded, smiling kindly at the girl in front of her. "No need to be nervous." She added, bronze coloured eyes twinkling. Something in her expression made Ginny relax, her smile come more natural. She turned her gaze towards the woman next to Michaela, gasping slightly as she peered under the hood; the still unknown woman was stunning; she was pale, with long, golden coloured hair that curled lightly. She was smiling too, impossibly blue eyes sparkling.

"And hello, Miss…" Ginny trailed off, waiting for the unknown woman to give her name.

"Evelyn." The woman said, her voice slightly accented. "But everybody calls me Evy. Or Eve, whichever suits you!" Her voice was tinted with excitement and Ginny wondered if this was her first assignment; she smiled back, relaxing as she realised Evy was just as kind as Michaela was.

"Evy, then. Nice to meet you." Ginny offered.

"Nice to meet you too, Ginny!" The woman said, smiling brightly.

"Am I to assume you haven't informed anyone of what's about to happen tonight?" Michaela asked, giggling softly as Ginny blushed.

"How did you know?" The redhead asked, wondering if she had overstepped some unspoken rule of the Sisterhood by keeping her initiation a secret.

"Usually, the whole family is present when informed." Michaela explained, smiling encouragingly. "But the initiation ritual itself is quite private, so there's nothing wrong with telling them afterwards; it wouldn't be the first time something like that has happened." She added, looking around her; Edward had snapped out of his shock and was slowly approaching the three witches with a curious expression on his face while two girls ducked swiftly behind the bushes near the dining hall as her eyes made contact with them. "Meet us at midnight by the shelter's main entrance." Michaela said.

"Alright." Ginny said, nodding once emphatically.

"And, Ginny, you truly have nothing to worry about." Evy reminded her, smiling brightly. Ginny nodded, somewhat calmer; at least they hadn't changed their minds! The two witches bid her a temporary goodbye and headed for the dining hall, leaving Ginny to stare at their retreating backs and then towards the setting sun; a little over three hours till midnight, she thought, nerves coiling in her stomach. The moment the two hooded figures entered the dining hall, Ginny was surrounded by the three other volunteers of the shelter.

"What where you talking about?" Asked Leonie.

"Do you know them?" Inquired Mary.

"Did they want something?" Added Edward.

"I met one of them, Michaela, last summer." Ginny offered, deciding that, at least, she wasn't lying completely. "She was just saying hi and introducing me to Evy; she's the blond one."

"You never told me you'd met them last summer!" Mary exclaimed.

"We didn't talk all that much…" Ginny said. "Look, I'm starving and Michaela and Evy are in the dining hall to. What do you say we go inside?" Mentioning the Sisterhood witches would be eating with them too was apparently the right thing to say as the general attention sifted from her back to the two women. Knowing the rest of the volunteers were likely too awestricken to approach Michaela and Evy eased the guilt of using them to escape her current predicament. Ginny allowed the three teens to walk ahead of her before breathing and following them inside. There was nothing to worry about, she reminded herself.

Those six words became her mantra for the following three hours. She had returned to her room with Mary, nodding and agreeing with her as the Hufflepuff chatted excitedly, talking about Michaela and Evy and the Sisterhood and how great it would be to be a part of it. All the while, she tried to swallow her nerves, feeling as if her heart was about to jump from her throat and onto the floor. At long last, Mary fell asleep, only a few minutes before midnight; Ginny had never been more thankful of her older brother and the chores he passes around like candy as it seemed Mary, despite her excitement, was completely knackered.

She rose from her bed, tiptoeing around the room, gathering her clothes and cloak, taking them with her and putting them on in the hall. She cautiously opened the door, wary of any noises she might be making and -the moment the door closed behind her- broke into a sprint, heading straight for the main gate of the shelter. She reached it with only minutes to spare, finding one of the two witches already waiting for her. With golden hair shining under the moonlight, it was easy to identify Evelyn, even from a distance.

"Hello again, Ginny." The woman offered, smiling at the approaching redhead.

"Hello, Evy. I hope you didn't wait for long." She was sure there where still a few minutes before midnight, weren't there?

"Oh, just ten minutes; I fear I arrived early." She said, smiling somewhat bashfully.

"I would have come sooner myself," Ginny admitted, "if my roommate had only fallen asleep sooner." Evy chuckled, obviously sharing Ginny's excitement.

"What did I miss?" Michaela's voice sounded from behind them, smiling softly at the two girls.

"Our nerves manifesting. Other than that…" Evy shrugged, trailing off.

"No need to be nervous." Michaela stated, rolling her eyes. "I have already told you as much."

"I'm jittery by nature." Evy retorted, making Ginny giggle, grateful that the witches from the Sisterhood, despite their reputation, seemed to be acting just as any other young witch of their age.

"Shall we?" Michaela offered, pointing towards the forest. "I figured a more private setting should be in order. You have your wand with you, correct?" She asked and Ginny nodded, pulling her wand out of her jeans' pocket. "Follow me, then!" And together they walked, wands lighting their way, into the forest. A gentle breeze passed through the woods, the moonlight fleeting through the branches, making Ginny draw mental comparisons between these woods and the Dark Forest by Hogwarts; she decided she preferred this one, hands down. Before she knew it, they had walked into the same clearing she had put that dragon to sleep last year. Smiling at the familiar surroundings, Ginny turned to the two witches next to her.

"Now what?" She asked, suddenly anxious to proceed with the ritual.

"May I?" Evy asked, pointing her wand towards the forest floor.

"Go ahead." Michaela said, and Evy did; silvery mist left the tip of her wand, forming a ribbon that, in turn, drew runes and circles on the floor. A few seconds later, a large shape was on the floor, circles and lines intertwining, its colour mirroring the moonlight. Ginny had never seen one with her own eyes before, but she was certain she was looking at a sigil.

"If you would stand in the middle of the sigil, over there," Michaela said, pointing where Ginny would stand, "we can start with the actual ritual. Once you complete it and receive your emblem, we will be in liberty to explain everything you want about the Sisterhood, answer whatever questions you may have." She paused for a second, bronze eyes looking straight into Ginny's brown ones. "Ginny, if you're having second thoughts, we won't judge you; you're free to turn the offer down, even now."

"I wouldn't dream of it." The redhead declared, feeling more and more secure in her decision as the minutes ticked by. She walked into the middle of the sigil as instructed and took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "I'm ready."

"Alright then." Evy said, smiling encouragingly. "You'll be fine, Ginny."

"Let's start. Part of the process is asking you some questions; just answer whatever comes naturally, Ginny, there are no wrong answers to give." Michaela said, turning to look at Ginny who nodded; she wasn't smiling, her expression completely serious even as her eyes still looked at the teen witch encouragingly.

"Ginerva Molly Weasley." She said, her voice calm as Evy took her place right across her, behind Ginny, raising her wand. "You have been blessed by the powers of magic old. Have you felt its effect?"

"I have." Ginny answered, fighting to keep her voice clear and audible. She recalled the voices whispering in her head, telling her to protect, begging for her abilities to be used.

"You have been given a year to consider joining the Sisterhood, to be bound by a bond unbreakable. Have you decided?" Michaela continued.

"I have." Ginny said.

"And will you join us?"

"I will." The redhead offered, feeling the magic concentrated in the sigil around her ripple and travel in warm, comforting waves over her body.

"Do you swear to enter the Sisterhood with an open heart, to learn and hone your abilities, study and use them, abiding to the rules of the Sisterhood?" The dark skinned witch carried on, the tip of her wand shining a soft silver light, the same mist that had created the sigil falling from it down to the forest floor and sliding like a mist towards Ginny.

"I swear." Ginny stated, feeling the mist touching her feet, climbing softly over her legs and up her body, swirling gently and enveloping her in a gentle embrace.

"Then to the Sisterhood we welcome you, sister equal with us all. May the gods watch over you always and bless you." Michaela concluded as the mist reached Ginny's face obscuring her sight. The redhead had no choice but to breathe it in, the scent of rain and magic flooding her as the voices in her head chanted softly in words unknown; or maybe that was Michaela and Evy, she could no longer tell, as she felt her feet leaving the ground, a soft warmth expanding from her chest to her whole body, getting more and more powerful with every beat of her heart. The heat enveloped her completely, resting a bit longer on her shoulder where the rune that marked her as a novice had been, her eyes and her throat.

Suddenly she could see again, the forest around her calm, the starry sky above littered with stars. She realised she had somehow ended up lying on the forest floor but did not feel otherwise disorientated. In fact, she was feeling very tranquil, the nerves from the day before completely gone. And when Evy and Michaela approached her, their faces worried as they looked at her from above she smiled brightly at them.

"Welcome to the order, sister." Evy said, as she offered her hand for Ginny to take. The redhead smiled brighter, rising up swiftly, feeling impossibly light. She giggled at the sensation.

"You will feel a little giddy for the next couple of days." Michaela explained, smiling at Ginny before rushing forward to envelope her in a hug. "Welcome, sister."

"I always wanted sisters." Ginny mumbled as Michaela released her, only for Evy to hug her in turn.

"You have them now." The blonde stated. "Forty-two of them, to be precise."

"Forty-two?" Ginny asked.

"That's how many of us there are." Michaela explained. "Forty-three, now." She added, smiling brightly. "You will meet them all at Home tomorrow."

"Home?" Ginny wondered out loud.

"Out headquarters, if you can call them that. It's where we go to train and meet with each other." Evy explained.

"And where is Home?" Ginny asked, trying to absorb all new information.

"Up north, in my home country, actually." Evy offered. "Norway." She elaborated, causing Ginny to do a double-take. Evy was from Norway, she realised. Evelyn, she corrected herself.  _Evelyn of Norway_?

"But then… you…" Evy blushed slightly but nodded affirmative as Michaela started laughing at both their expenses.

"Don't worry, Ginny." She said, bronze eyes twinkling. "That was pretty much my reaction too, when we first met."

"I quite recall you stuttering and point at me for half a day in disbelief." Evy muttered, looking at Michaela in mock accusation, still blushing.

"I was a seven year old girl from a small village of South Africa and I had just been introduced to a real, live princess." Michaela stated, shrugging nonchalantly. "What did you expect me to do, your highness?" She asked teasingly. Evy sighed as Ginny shook her head as if to clear it.

"Point and stare." Evy admitted. "Ginny, considering everything, call me Evy. Just Evy, please."

"I… of course." Ginny offered. She had been pointed and stared at a lot after her first year in Hogwarts. She didn't want to subject anybody else to such a torture. So she shoved down the voice in her head that sing-songed she was talking to a real princess and instead focused on something else Evy had said. "Considering everything?" She inquired.

"When you enter the Sisterhood, you need someone to train you." Evy explained. "That someone is one of your older sisters that possesses the same, or a similar talent to your own. And while we have no Tamer in out ranks other than you -we have an extensive library and personal journals of all known Tamers in existence though, so don't worry too much about it- we have one more Siren; me."

"So, you will train me?" Ginny asked, smiling softly at the older witch.

"I will try." Evy admitted, looking somewhat anxious. "I have never trained anybody, but I'll do my best."

"Thank you." Ginny simply stated, smiling brightly at the blonde. Evy smiled back and Michaela giggled fondly at the scene.

"We better head back to the shelter." She said finally. "I'm certain Ginny will like to take a look at her emblem and her eyes. And we have to start explaining how the order works. It's quite a lot, but we'll help with anything you want, I promise." But Ginny had stopped listening after the words "emblem" and "eyes" had been uttered.

"What's an emblem? And what about my eyes?" She wondered, her right hand coming to rest right under her eyelid in fear.

"An emblem is a mark that typically describes your magic prowess. They used to be widely known once." Evy explained. "All members of our order receive a specific emblem during out initiation on our left shoulder blade, see?" She asked as she turned around, lifting her hair to reveal an intricate triquetra-like design on her shoulder, under the strap of her dress. There where a few orbs around it, some in colour, some black, while two words in runes where written inside the lines of the main design.

"The one on your shoulder looks very similar to ours." Michaela explained, turning around to show her own emblem. "Every one is different, depending on the witch, but the main design is the same, signalling you as a member of the Sisterhood."

"And my eyes?" Ginny asked, her mind abuzz with the new information.

"Depending on your abilities, your eyes take a different colour. Cornflower blue is for sirens, for example." Evy said, pointing at her own eyes.

"But yours are…"

"Darker?" Evy asked. "I know. My second ability is depicted by indigo blue. So this happened." She said, pointing at her eyes, the very colour of blue ink. "Eyes are the mirror of the soul and all that. Mine used to be gray, once."

"Mine where black." Michaela offered.

"And mine now are what colour exactly?" Ginny asked, her head spinning.

"A lovely shade of violet?" Evy asked, her smile a bit tentative; she could recall her own reaction to her new eye colour; her eight year old self had panicked the moment she had laid eyes on her reflection, certain she was going to go blind.

" _Violet_?" Ginny exclaimed, sounding terrified, her head spinning.

"Tamers have red eyes." Michaela explained, making Ginny wince; she didn't think she could have handled red eyes. Anything but red. "It could have been worse."

"It's the rules of the Sisterhood, or we'd have told you sooner, I swear." Evy explained. "No details of the order are to be shared with outsiders and all that. If it helps, I almost had a panic attack when I first saw my eyes after the initiation ritual."

"I can understand why." Ginny offered, feeling both an extreme urgency and a deep rooted fear in the thought of finding a mirror.

"That's the worst of it all, really." Evy promised. "So, shall we find you a mirror, Ginny?"

"As long as you promise to catch me if I faint." Ginny muttered, causing the two witches to laugh around her. Her mother would have a heart attack, she was certain, Ginny thought as the three witches walked back to the shelter. She turned her attention towards Evy once again, looking at the blonde's eyes apprehensively when a new question arose. "Evy?"

"Yes?"

"What's your second ability, the one that makes your eyes darker?" Ginny wondered, finding everything she learned of the Sisterhood captivating even through her shock.

"Oh, that." Evy said, smiling brightly. "I'm an Oracle."

"And what's that, exactly?" Ginny wondered.

"That requires quit the long explanation." Evy offered.

"I've got time." Ginny stated, smiling back at the blonde witch walking next to her.

 


	70. Meet The Order

The thirty-first of July dawned to find the Dark Lord more enraged than ever. He had spent the past few weeks waiting for Harry Potter to make his move, to make a fear induced slip, some type of mistake that would give him an opening to strike while there was still time. The infuriating boy, however, seemed just as adept in the art of waiting as he was in duelling. He hadn't made an appearance on his radar and, according to the weekly missives Lucius received from his son, was leaving Silbreith -the blasted castle had been placed under the Fidelius charm and Voldemort was almost certain he would have to get through Harry to reach it- daily, returning only late in the evening; Draco had no idea where the teen disappeared to, stating in his letters that Harry said he was working on a new broomstick design.

If the Malfoy brat believed that, he was just as ignorant as his father could be, the Dark Lord thought, seething in anger. No, the Dark Lord was certain Snape, at least, had realised what Draco was doing and was purposefully letting him stay in his house, probably planning to use him later on as a source of information. And even if the young Malfoy could yet prove useful to him, Voldemort had decided not to take any drastic measures to either use or dispose of the boy presently. Not until there was time to walk out in the open at least; after that, he couldn't possibly think of a use for the brat.

And then there was that; he had decided that he would have to move in the shadows for the time being, at least until he got his hands on the prophecy. For that, of course, he would have to venture into the Department of Mysteries, more specifically, into the room of prophecies. He leaned back on his armchair, rubbing circles on his temples with long, spidery fingers. The Department of Mysteries… there was one more thing he had always coveted that was famed to reside in the darkest corners of the Ministry. He had always thought that, once his control over the Ministry had been complete, he would have the time to go through the treasures laying there to uncover that one thing that would cement his reign like nothing else could.

He had once believed it imprudent, spending too much time focusing on it, knowing it would be an extremely difficult object to locate. But that was fifteen years ago, during his first attempt to take over the Ministry. For, even if they generally were complete disappointments, some of his Death Eaters had managed to climb up the social ladder occupying places in the Ministry to which he didn't have any access before. And through them he knew that the Veil, at least, was still in the Ministry. And few, very few, knew of its significance. None in the country other than himself, he had made sure of that early on. There were only two left in the entire continent and soon they too would be gone.

His plans would have to move forward, of course, sooner than he had initially intended them to. He was the most powerful wizard of his time, he reminded himself, and he wasn't going to repeat the mistakes of his past or of the past wizards before him. Grindelwald had managed to control the greater part of Eastern Europe before his fall; in the end he had had only himself to count upon and Dumbledore had overpowered him. He had been too late to realise what had almost taken Voldemort himself his demise to see; he couldn't trust his followers. Grindelwald's followers had run away scared in the end while his hadn't searched for him the moment he needed them to. His Death Eaters would only be loyal as long as he stood strong; he needed more than that.

Considering how the Potter brat was acting, he would have to revise his plans; maybe waiting till he took control over the Ministry wouldn't suffice. Last time around he didn't have the opportunity or the time to search his way through the Ministry's Department of Mysteries. Now, with his followers having sunk their claws deep in the Ministry, he believed he could at least have the lay of the land before he had to move into the situation himself. He wouldn't be able to avoid visiting the Ministry on his own, of course, and he wasn't planning to. But this time everything would be completely planned through. His past had proven just how destructive knee jerk reactions could be and how underestimating his enemies could lead to his demise. The country would bow down to him, the Dark Lord promised himself, then the world and there were no lengths to what he'd do to make that happen.

And as Voldemort laid down his plans, determining which of his followers he'd use to best infiltrate the Ministry, Harry Potter was waking up in Silbreith, eyes snapping wide open as the earth beneath him trembled. He reached for his wand immediately only to realize that it wasn't the world that was shaking; it was merely his bed. Draco and Neville had seemed to have decided -for no apparent reason- that jumping on his bed and proceeding to bounce around gleefully, was the best possible way to wake him up.

"What the…" He mumbled, falling unceremoniously back onto his pillow, closing his eyes and hoping that, if he ignored them for long enough, his brothers would simply go away.

"No, you're not falling asleep again, sir!" Draco exclaimed, shaking the raven haired wizard awake.

"Go, away." Harry offered, inwardly cringing at how much his, in theory, strict command sounded like a whine.

"Nope." Neville offered. When Harry didn't move, instead throwing an arm over his eyes and willing his brothers away with all his might -'cause he was  _tired_ , damn it, he still hadn't completely recuperated from taking down Orbein's wards and all his brain demanded was that he needed sleep- the brown eyed Gryffindor persisted; "It's our  _birth_ day!" He sing-songed, finally claiming his brother's attention.

"Huh?" Harry muttered, rubbing his eyes as his mind caught up. July the thirty-first; it  _was_  their birthday!

"And you're supposed to be a morning person." Draco lamented, the teasing note evident in his voice.

"I'm just… I can't believe I forgot." Harry admitted, shaking his head in an effort to chase the last remnants of sleep away.

"Anyway, happy birthday to us!" Neville exclaimed, resuming his bouncing routine.

"Why am  _I_  the recipient of such a wake up call?" Harry asked, looking at Draco accusingly. "It's Neville's birthday too!"

"Neville's room is closer to mine than yours." Draco explaining, grinning widely. "I just got to him first. He was…" They turned to look at Neville who had just managed to fall off the bed with a loud thumping noise, an almost silent and clearly annoyed string of curses echoing from where he had landed on the floor. "He was a bit more enthusiastic than you." Draco stated, chuckling at his brother's expense.

"I noticed." Harry commended smiling fondly at the scene before hopping off his bed. "And yes, happy birthday to us!" He exclaimed helping a now smiling Neville to his feet before pulling him into a hug. The three brothers walked down towards the kitchen -after Neville and Draco had agreed that Harry needed a few minutes to get dressed before they dragged him out- in search for breakfast and Severus. The potions master made the search easier for them by waiting in the kitchen to greet them.

"Happy birthday, Harry!" He wished his son, enveloping him in his arms. "And happy birthday to you too, Neville."

"Thanks, Dad!" Harry offered, smiling widely and taking his place on the table. "Oh, chocolate cake!" He exclaimed, smiling even brighter at Minnie who was carrying said cake towards the table.

"Happy birthday, master Harry!" She offered. "Happy birthday, Mr. Neville!"

"Thanks, Minnie!" The two wizards chorused, as Severus offered to cut the cake for them.

"I can't believe you're turning fifteen…" The potions master muttered, looking at his son in contemplation. Harry had gotten taller in the past few months, just a few inches short of his own height, his frame resembling that of a child less and less as he approached adulthood. And Severus had a creeping suspicion his son was about to start shaving too; he hadn't missed those sideway glances Harry had sent to the living room mirror every now and then, staring at the few black hairs that had started growing on his face.

"It had to happen, eventually." Harry stated, smirking slightly before his expression turning sour. "I can't believe I have to go to Potter manor today; Adrian has been training all summer. I can't see why we can't postpone the birthday party for a few weeks! It's not that we usually do anything big, not since the training started; just a cake and a few presents exchanged and that's it!"

"It sounds thrilling." Draco commented drily, wolfing down his cake. There had been a letter waiting for them when they had returned from Orbein last night. Lily had written to inform them that the birthday party would commence at noon on the next day and that the whole family would attend. Not exactly and invitation, not exactly his ideal birthday party either, Harry mused.

"You're going to witness it first hand, you realise." Harry stated, emerald eyes glinting teasingly as his blond brother sighed the sigh of a long suffering man.

"If I must." He offered dramatically. Neville, who's grandmother had decided he had grown up enough to spend most of the summer on his own and had gone to visit that friend of hers in southern France after all -Harry had never been and probably would never be in a position to say that he understood exactly how Augusta Longbottom's mind functioned- chuckled at the young Slytherin's expense.

"Look, Draco, I'll be there too. How bad could it possibly be?" The brown eyed teen asked.

"Famous last words." Severus muttered, taking a sip from his coffee.

"Thanks for the support, Dad, really." Harry threw back, a smile never leaving his lips.

"You're welcome, kid." The potions master offered, completely unrepentant and undisputedly amused. Harry smiled wider at the obvious lightening of his father's spirits; as if having to leave the further exploration of Orbein and their newly found lead on Horcruxes for a day to go to a party Harry didn't feel like throwing, Dumbledore too had made contact last night. The Headmaster would be at the Potter manor too on the thirty first and had stated that there was an urgent matter he had to bring to Severus' attention. The Head of Slytherin House would bet his complete collection of cauldrons that that "urgent matter" had something to do with the Order of the Phoenix getting back on business.

After breakfast, the four wizards retreated to their respective rooms to get dressed for the party at Potter manor. Harry had stared at his reflection on the mirror for a few long seconds before he called for a house elf to bring him a razor; he would look nothing less than immaculate when he entered Potter manor and a shave, he believed, was in order. Satisfied with only having cut himself thrice and inwardly cursing Neville for his apparent talent with a blade -his Gryffindor brother had started shaving last winter and he didn't walk around looking like he had just fought against a group of Death Eaters and lost- and Draco -for having hair so light he wouldn't have to even consider shaving for a few more years- he pulled out his wand and healed the cuts. His clothes were picked carefully, the silver wolf ring clear on his right hand, stating his status as an adult.

Soon, all four of them where gathered in front of the fireplace, looking at each other, waiting to see who would take the first step. Harry sighed and looked at his father pleadingly.

"Can we leave as soon as possible?" He asked, hoping he would like the answer; Severus, who didn't feel he could remain in the same room with an irate James for more than a few hours without started hexing the man, readily conceded;

"The moment they start gritting on your nerves." He assured his son.

"I would rather we went to Orbein." Neville muttered, voicing the thoughts of the whole family.

"I would rather we had time to continue with our research too." Harry stated; he had explained what they had found in that book to Neville and Draco while Severus had elaborated on his theory on how Voldemort had remained alive after his first encounter with Harry. It had taken the two teens some time to stomach the idea alone -Severus had been adamant they wouldn't actually read the ritual needed, feeling that he had been sufficiently scarred for all four of them- but they hadn't disappointed after the shock had passed, swiftly helping in the search for more books on the subject that may have been lurking on the selves of Orbein's library. They had found two more, one of which a huge tome that had a protective spell on it that had almost burned the hair right off Neville's head, but had barely managed to start reading them before it was time to sleep. And then there were the repairs on the castle that had to start, eventually, and they wouldn't be done on their own.

"The sooner we leave, the sooner we will return." Severus offered, smiling supportively at Draco who had gone even paler than usual; the fact that the blond didn't allow his feelings to show easily didn't mean he wasn't bothered by the continuous insults he received from the remaining Potters. At least, his cousin would be there too, he figured and of course, he thought, his smile widening, his family would be there too.

"I hope you appreciate what we go through for you, Harry." Draco stated, grabbing a handful of floo powder and throwing it onto the flames.

"Trust me, I do." Harry offered, stepping into the green-blue blaze first; the world started spinning the moment he worded his desired destination. He stepped out of the fireplace in the manor that, in another life, could have been his home and found it lacking. The manor was grand in its own right but simply lacked that element that made it home. And, he noted as the people gathered in the living room turned their attention on his, it wasn't even that well protected. There had been a reason why the Potters had had to abandon this place during the first war; the location of the manor was well known and there was no feasible protection that could make the world forget of it, not even the Fidelius charm.

"Harry!" Lily called and rushed forward to hug her younger son just as the flames behind him turned turquoise once more. "Happy birthday!" She exclaimed, seemingly unwilling to let him go; she did however, when Neville stepped out of the fireplace and came to stand right behind his brother.

"Thank you." Harry offered kindly, before pointing at Neville. "You don't mind I invited Nev and Draco over too?"

"Draco?" Came Ron's expected, disgruntled reaction. "You invited that bastard over?" Neville seemed ready to pounce but Harry beat him to the proverbial punch.

"I assumed that this was my birthday party as well, Ronald." He stated, voice colder than ice. "It hadn't occurred to me that I should have acquired your blessing first." He had the pleasure to watch Ron turn beet red, from the roots of his hair to all the way under the collar of his shirt as the boy fumed.

"Of course you can invite whomever you wish." Lily stated, gulping once as she tried to defuse the situation. "And on the subject of birthdays, happy birthday to you too, Neville."

"Thank you, Mrs. Potter." The brown eyed boy stated curtly, no real warmth in his usually jovial tone. The rest of his family approached the two boys to wish them a happy birthday, most hugging Harry, their reactions getting much more subdued when Draco walked into the room. Harry simply smiled widely at the blond and Draco smiled back, deciding to ignore the stares the two remaining male Potters and the one Weasley where throwing at him. Severus arrived seconds later, completely disregarding any hostility directed his way as he politely wished Adrian a happy birthday. The hazel eyed twin seemed even more frigid than he had during the beginning of the summer and Harry wanted nothing more but to grab him by the shoulders and shake him into his senses. That not being an option, he tried to strike a conversation with him, via Hermione who seemed quite eager to talk to him after all.

Thirty minutes into the supposed party and Harry could already tell it had all been a monumental mistake; Sirius and Remus were sitting at a corner, silently staring at Severus, as if they were dying to talk to him. Lily stood numb as her two sons avoided each other. James was glaring at everything that moved. Draco was talking vividly with Neville and Harry and later Hermione, shocking the girl to temporary silence, while Severus sipped his tea in apparent tranquillity, reconsidering the whole Horcux theory in his mind. Mr and Mrs Weasley had arrived a few minutes ago, the later with red rimmed and puffy eyes, along with Fred and George. Apparently, Percy had decided -in a Ron-worthy, pigheaded manoeuvre, as Draco later put it- to side with the Ministry in the Voldemort debacle. She had started crying openly when Dumbledore had appeared and brought news of the Minister's unchanging attitude. Professor McGonagall -who had arrived with Albus- had taken her to the kitchen for some water as the Headmaster sighed tiredly.

"How can the Minister still refuse to see what's happening?" Adrian exclaimed, filled with, admittedly, righteous indignation. "The signs are all there."

"Not really, no." Harry offered, sipping carefully from his still too hot tea. "It appears that Voldemort has taken enough measures to hide himself from anybody unwilling to look. As always, the devil's greatest victory was to convince the world he doesn't exist." The silence the followed his words was something he had come to expect from his biological family who continued to stubbornly treat him as a mindless child, but it still irritated him.

"That's exactly what he has done." Dumbledore offered, finally sitting across Harry on the dining table. "Voldemort is biding his time; to what purpose, we still don't know." Or do we? Severus wondered, having learned not to take what the Headmster said to face value anymore. Albus had held the diary after all, two years ago. Had he really not known what it was back then; when even he himself had suspected…

"What can we do then?" Remus asked, looking more tired than he had since the day he started taking Severus' Wolfsbane.

"There are a few things we can do but before that…" The Headmaster stated, clearly not wanting to start that conversation in front of some of the people gathered around the table, and pulled out a stack of envelopes from his robes. He gave one to Ron, Adrian and Hermione, surprisingly, one to Draco and Neville each -and how did the man even know that Harry would have asked his brothers to tag along, the green eyed teen did not know- and two to Harry. One of the envelopes was his regular Hogwarts letter while the other had the official seal of the Ministry on it; his Arithmancy OWL score, Harry realised, heart beating faster all of a sudden.

"Is that…" Hermione trailed, looking at the envelope in Harry's hands with thinly concealed covetousness.

"Harry's OWL result?" The Headmaster asked. "Why yes, it is! Open it, my boy." Harry didn't need any more prodding; steadying his hands, he broke the wax seal and pulled out the parchment. The wide smile in his face told Severus -who was watching with bated breath- all he needed to know.

"You passed, didn't you?" The potions master asked, mirroring his son's smile.

"Only with an Outstanding, you know." Harry stated drily, before throwing his hands in the air with a loud 'whoop!' as Neville and Draco attempted to tackle him from his chair onto the floor.

"Of course you did." Severus stated, not having worried for a second. Okay, maybe his paranoid side had, but… rationally, at least, he knew Harry was well beyond OWL level taught subjects. "Congratulations, Harry!"

"And that's not all." The Headmaster added, pointing at the Hogwarts envelopes. Harry, now cocking an eyebrow in confusion for Dumbledore's eyes seemed to twinkle just a tad on the excessive side, pried the envelop open; his usual list of books was in there and then, as he was about to ask what exactly he was missing, a small pin fell from the envelope. No, a badge, he realised with some trepidation, the letter "P" clearly engraved on it.

"You made me Gryffindor's Prefect, professor?" Harry asked bewildered, Neville bursting into spontaneous chuckling as the horrified expression on his brother's face, Draco soon following suit. It was quite clear that Harry hadn't even considered that might happen, despite his grades and general magical prowess and the expression of pure mortification on his face was a memory Neville wanted to save and drag later on in their lives, just so that he could perpetually tease his youngest brother with it.

"Hell, no." Sounded a faint voice from the blond Slytherin, along with a soft whine. Neville knew what was going to happen before he saw it; there, on his elder brother's his palm, lay one more prefect badge. And as shocked grey eyes met terrified emerald, falling on the floor laughing was all Neville could do.

"Congratulations, Harry, Draco!" Severus offered, sidestepping the still laughing Neville and walking closer to pat Draco affectionately on the shoulder, making the Malfoy heir blush slightly at the praise, and hugging his son close. After Hermione received her badge too -no surprise there, obviously- a second round of congratulations seemed to be in order; Neville had gotten over his laughing fit and had hugged his brothers close, gleefully whispering this party turned out to be a treasure chest of blackmailing material after all. The ones that seemed to completely abstain from the, more sincere and less stiff than the first, congratulatory round were Ron and Adrian, that had opted on sulking at the far corner of the room; the hazel Potter twin was picking at a biscuit with no real appetite while Ron refused to even look at Hermione, let alone Harry and Draco.

Severus, on his part, was almost bursting with pride; he knew that, even if Dumbledore hadn't wanted to keep Harry close -something which he strongly suspected was the case- his son had earned that badge in a way that no student before him had. And that OWL for that matter, he reminded himself.

"My little boy, a prefect!" Lily exclaimed, her eyes tearing up. Harry rolled his eyes, slightly; he was by no means  _little_ , thank you very much. Despite being a legal adult he was a good head taller than his twin. Little… Meh!

"I can't believe you did that to us, kiddo! A Prefect, of all things!" Sirius offered, clutching his chest as if fatally wounded. "And Draco too, my own flesh and blood!" That last dramatic exclamation had caught the attention of four specific wizards in a much more favourable way than any reaction they had elicited so far; it seemed that Sirius hadn't forgotten that conversation in Hogwarts after all. Harry smiled encouragingly at his godfather.

"Don't listen to him, of course." Remus stated, slightly pushing Sirius out of the way to congratulate the two teens and Hermione.

"Well done, all three of you!" Dumbledore exclaimed, clapping once. "And now, young gentlemen, Miss Granger," he continued, smiling softly at his students, "would you mind if borrowed the rest of our company for a while? There are a few subjects I have to address. I wish this didn't have to happen today, of all days, but alas! Some things can not wait."

Harry resisted rolling his eyes at the statement. He well knew what Dumbledore wanted to talk about; his father had, after all, spent an hour last night -all they could spare from brainstorming over Horcruxes- to explain to him and his brothers what the Order of the Phoenix was and how it operated. Reinstating it had seemed to be the only natural course of action now that the Ministry had made its position on the subject of Voldemort completely clear.

"Why can't we stay, professor?" Adrian asked, hazel eyes narrowing behind his glasses. Yes, Adrian, because picking a fight with Dumbledore will get you into the meeting, Harry thought sarcastically as he observed his twin fume.

"It's a delicate subject, I fear, but rest assured!" The Headmaster said, trying to appease Adrian. "You will soon be informed." Not of everything, of course, Harry continued with his internal commentary, twirling his newly acquired badge and wincing slightly; Neville was never going to let neither him nor Draco live their reaction to becoming prefects down.

"But…"

"No, Fred." Mr. Weasley admonished.

"If we could just…"

"George, your father said no for a reason." Molly chastised her son. Ron tried to voice his own objection but was swiftly pushed out of the room and towards the gardens by Hermione; Adrian followed her, still looking mutinous while the twins left next, identical determined expressions on their faces. Neville and Draco shrugged, shared a look with Harry who nodded, signalling he too would be following them and left the room. Severus, who had deliberately placed himself a few steps back from everybody else nodded towards his son, an added reassurance that he would share everything the Headmaster told them with him afterwards. As such, Harry was the last to leave the room; Dumbledore seemed hesitant to let him go, almost as if he held himself back from stopping him only a fraction of a second before he opened his mouth to do so.

The wizards left in the living room were swiftly led to James' study, Albus leading the way, already assuming his place as the de facto leader of the group. Severus walked at the end of the group, right behind Sirius. He had expected Albus would want to address the subject at hand as soon as possible. He had expected he would wish the children not to be present. He had expected the Headmaster's indecision on whether Harry should or should not be included in the group of those he considered children. What he hadn't expected was Sirius, stopping him just before they entered James' study.

"After the meeting is over, Remus and I would like a word with you." Severus didn't even manage to nod before Sirius turned around and followed his werewolf friend inside the room, his feet leading him in too as his brain processed what he had just heard. If he wanted to be completely honest with himself, Sirius and Remus wanting to talk to him about Harry -he could think of no other reason why the two wizards would like to speak to him all of a sudden- was a possibility that had entered his mind right after they had chased Pettigrew, that night almost two years ago. But time had passed and Severus had thought that, whatever understanding these two had gained regarding his relationship with Harry had been long forgotten. But it seemed the two wizards remembered quite well and now he too found himself recalling a thought that had passed his mind that very night; maybe there was hope for Sirius Black yet, after all.

"Close the door, Severus, if you please." Albus asked and the potions master complied, his thoughts focusing back on the meeting at hand. He would worry about what he was going to say to Lupin and Black after this first council of war was over; it all depended on their questions, after all.

"Is this really happening again, Albus?" James asked as the Headmaster pulled some secrecy wards over the room. Severus made a mental note of those he recognised; some permanent form of them could certainly be used on Orbein after all. "Are we back in business?"

"It would seem we're running out of solutions." Albus stated, his expression serious. "The Order must return once again."

"There is no persuading the Minister, you think?" Molly asked, looking at the Headmaster in hope; that would be the ideal solution for her, Severus knew, as it would mean the quarrel with her son would be put to rest immediately.

"Fudge will only believe what suits him, Molly." Said the pot concerning the kettle, the potions master inwardly commented. "He will not be persuaded unless he sees Voldemort with his own eyes." Irony, thy name is Dumbledore, Severus thought, wondering what it would take, short of witnessing Harry and Voldemort duelling -the mere thought caused him to shudder- to convince the Headmaster his theories had been wrong.

"Who has been informed so far?" James asked, leaning on a bookcase by the window.

"Everybody in this room, of course," Albus explained, "along with all surviving members of the Order. Kingsley has started looking out for more people to join; he has connections in the Ministry, of course, but he can't just go asking around, you understand."

"Would you like me to search through the Auror ranks?" James asked, considering his chances. "Scrimgeour might oppose," he stated, referring to his second-in-command "but I have a few candidates in mind, as long as I manage to go around him." Severus too considered their chances; Scrimgeour had joined the Aurors three decades before the first war; the man was no doubt determined, driven and a powerful wizard… that still had the same image of what the Ministry was almost sixty years ago. He would be the Head of the Auror department if it wasn't for James and his much more contemporary mindset and both men knew it. There was bad blood between them and the fact that Scrimgeour would never stray from the path the Ministry dictated only made things that much more difficult.

"If you can manage to do so discretely." Dumbledore said. "More eyes inside the Ministry can only help us and the last war has left us with fewer members than what I would wish for." The old wizard concluded, his expression turning dark. Severus caught Molly stiffening with the corner of his eyes. She had lost her brothers in the war, he recalled, as Arthur consoled his wife at the best of his ability. The conversation soon turned to possible recruitments and such, before the matter of the Headquarters was addressed. The Potter Manor was out of question and James with Lily themselves where planning to move to a property of theirs in London once Adrian and Harry returned to Hogwarts. It wasn't long before Sirius offered his own house at Grimauld Place. Everybody knew he wasn't using it but the wards were working perfectly even after all this time.

"It will need some work, of course." Sirius warned them.

"We can all help." Lily supplied.

"Of course." Albus agreed. "Until the Order is completely reinstated we will need to spend much time at the Headquarters as it is. The Fidelius too would be a good measure of protection; I'm planning on being the secret keeper myself, of course." Everyone nodded in agreement and, after half an hour of additional conversation, it was decided that the first official meeting of the Order would take place in the new Headquarters in three days. Dumbledore soon adjourned the meeting after that, claiming he would have to return to Hogwarts and work on informing every member of the Order he could reach.

When everybody cleared out of the office, Remus asked Severus to stay behind, stating he had a question about the new Wolfsbane he had long wanted to ask. At James' curious glance, Sirius stepped forward and swiftly assured the Potter patriarch that he would remain in the room, just in case. Somewhat appeased, James followed his wife back into the living room.

"How may I be of assistance, gentlemen?" Severus asked, looking at the two other wizards in the room expectantly.

"How about by explaining what exactly 's been going on between you and Harry?" Sirius blurted out, obviously having been dying to ask that for quite some time. Well, tough, Severus thought; he wasn't going to make this easy on them.

"You lost me." He simply stated, accompanying his declaration with the most successful confused and innocent look he could muster. Sirius narrowed his eyes at the display, but it was Remus who spoke next.

"What Sirius meant, was that you two seem to be more closely connected than Harry is with his own father." The werewolf stated. Severus almost snorted; quite the oxymoron there, Mr. Lupin.

"Why would you say that?" The potions master asked.

"We're not blind, Snape!" Sirius declared.

"Sometimes I wonder." The potions master simply stated, shrugging nonchalantly.

"Why you…"

"Sirius!" Remus cautioned his friend, hoping the commotion wouldn't bring James in the room. When the door didn't open, he spoke again.

"It started out when we first came to teach at Hogwarts." Remus explained. "We noticed almost immediately. Sirius first, then me. And after everything that happened last summer and Harry's emancipation and now with Voldemort… For Merlin's sake, he's been staying with you all this summer and not in his house!" The werewolf exclaimed. "James and Lily have talked about this with Dumbledore and he has advised them not to interfere presently but…"

"And they would have no right to." Severus stated matter-of-factly. They had absolutely no right whatsoever.

"They are his parents!" Sirius said. "And he's closer to you than he is to them; how the ruddy hell did that happen?"

"Sometimes I wonder indeed." Severus muttered, his anger shimmering in his chest. He wasn't going to deny how close he was with his son; but he didn't feel they deserved all the answers just yet. Not when they had to ask questions like those. "Answer me my questions and I'll answer yours." He turned towards Sirius. "You ask how did this happen. I ask, how couldn't you notice? You say you first noticed how Harry and I interacted two years ago. Shouldn't you be asking yourselves  _why_  did you notice only then? I spent more than a decade raising him; where were you?" The silence that followed his questions said it all; it was thick enough to cut with a knife and weighted down on Remus and Sirius both.

"Severus we…" No matter how hard he tried, Remus couldn't continue his sentence. Sirius had seemingly given up on trying to justify himself and was looking at the floor instead, his face blushing in shame.

"Yes, that." Severus offered and chuckled mirthlessly. "So, gentlemen, I will not be answering your questions today. But I'll tell you this; Harry is a person of his own right, more mature than you give him credit for. He's capable of making his own decisions and he will make his own decisions no matter what." The potions master stated. "Do remember that. Now, gentlemen, we should head back to the living room before our presence is missed." And he opened the door, stepping out of the room, leaving Remus and Sirius behind to mull over what they had heard. There might be hope for them still, Severus thought again, but that didn't mean the road ahead of them would be easy; if they truly wanted to get closer to Harry, to get to know him, they would have to be worthy of him first.

While this conversation was taking place, Harry was amusing himself with watching Fred and George's attempts to eavesdrop on the meeting. They had used an invention of theirs -extendable ears, they called it, and privately thanked him again for giving them the money that made it all possible; apparently their mother had been pestering them all summer, trying to find out why they had thanked him so vividly back at the platform making their stay at the Burrow that much more fun- but to no avail. The room was warded and warded well.

"I don't understand why you keep trying, mate." Neville said, his voice reaching the Weasley twins from where he had decided to lay down on the grass and wait for the meeting to be through.

"Don't you want to know what's happening in there?" Ron asked, looking furious and completely baffled as to how unconcerned Neville appeared.

"It's not a matter if we want to know or not." Draco stated, plopping down next to his brother. "There's no way you'll eavesdrop in a room where Dumbledore is holding a meeting; he's probably cast so many cloaking spells, your ears would buzz if you passed by the door."

"Oh, shut up Malfoy!" Adrian exclaimed, shooting a death glare to the blond.

"Temper, temper." Harry cautioned, deciding his brothers had the right idea and joining them on the grass. "I bet he's even warded the room."

"I bet not even  _bugs_  could get in there without Dumbledore noticing." Neville stated, causing his brothers to laugh at the thought of a very special kind of bug that would sacrifice her right antenna just to listen in to that conversation for a minute.

"Sorry, inside joke." Harry offered, still chuckling, as he observed the confused stares he received from the Weasley twins.

"I give up!" George exclaimed disgruntled, as he pocketed the extendable ears and crossed his hands in front of his chest, huffing.

"Yeah!" Fred agreed. "They don't want to tell us? See if we care!"

"Why yes, you don't care at all, I can clearly see that." Draco commented, grinning widely.

"I thought I told you to shut up!" Adrian spat.

"I thought I told you to control your temper." Harry interjected, smiling still, even if he was considering hexing his twin on the spot.

"Sod off, Harry!" Adrian countered, his face turning an interesting shade of purple.

"Gladly." The green eyed twin offered. "As soon as we cut the cake, we'll be leaving you in peace."

"So, you're not staying?" Hermione asked, looking at the younger Potter twin in confusion.

"Nope, can't do." Harry said. "I have still a lot of work to do, you know, broomsticks to design and such." That wasn't completely a lie as he had presented Nimbus with a family model of the Firebolt he had designed last year along with the Seeker Edition, after tinkering a bit with the tail. He did have a contract to uphold after all.

"The war is coming and you're concerned about broomsticks?" Adrian asked; really now, Harry thought, that colour on his face couldn't be normal.

"To each their own, Adrian." Harry countered. "Besides,  _you_  are training. Wasn't that the point?" Adrian's eyes widened as he recalled their conversation from a month ago.

"But surely, Harry, you must see you have to train too." Hermione stated, her expression stern.

"Who says I'm not?" Harry offered, chuckling once.

"You do realise he won the Triwizard Tournament, right?" Neville asked, joining the conversation, smirking.

"I still can't get over that dragon statue." Draco muttered.

"I still can't get over that fish tail." Neville said, laughing out.

"You'll never let me forget the fish tail." Harry accused them, fondness colouring his words instead of accusation.

"We'll never let you forget that you thought you could walk without help after the first time you transformed your legs back after a swim in the lake; you took a few steps, tripped, fell on top of us and we all ended up in the water." Draco reminded him. "It was January, Harry. The lake was almost completely frozen over, Harry." The blond whined as Fred and George laughed uproariously at Harry's peeved expression.

"You were the ones that insisted on tagging along." Harry defended himself.

"Because we were afraid you wouldn't be able to stand on your own legs after the transformation." Neville stated. "It seems we were right." And he high-fived his blond brother as Harry groaned.

"Idiots, both of you." The green eyed wizard stated fondly.

"Meh, probably." Neville agreed.

"You fell into the lake?" Fred asked, still chuckling, imagining how the scene must have played out.

"I wouldn't recommend it to anybody else, but yes." Harry admitted. "Could we not talk about this?" He asked, chuckling a little. Fred and George shared a glance and started talking instead about quidditch, tentatively including Draco in the conversation while Ron and Adrian fumed, with Hermione trying to get them to talk.

Eventually, harry kept his word with him and his family leaving the Potter manor a bit after the birthday cake. Lily seemed ready to protest but Dumbledore, who had apparently returned just for the cake -or so he said- held her back with a subtle glance. Well, Harry thought, Adrian was still being an idiot and now that he was a prefect he was afraid things would get even worse between them. Still nobody had gotten hexed or punched and there had been no attempts to coerce him to spend the remainder of his holidays at Potter manor. For all intents and purposes, things could have gone much worse.

Coincidentally the thought "things could have gone much worse" was the exact same thing that had passed from one Ginny Weasley's mind as she looked herself in the mirror for the first time after her initiation ritual. The violet shade she had been so much afraid to see in her own eyes wasn't the deep mauve hue she had been terrified of. Instead, it was a soft lilac, the tones of amethyst varying the further away you got from the pupil.

"Not that bad, right?" Evy asked, smiling tentatively from her spot on the couch. Ginny had followed her and Michaela back to the guest house so that they could explain to her the basics of the Sisterhood and how it worked. From what she had gathered so far, the Order of Morgana, for that was exactly what the Sisterhood was, had been actually founded long before Morgana was born.

"How does that work?" Ginny had asked, sitting cross legged on the couch across the two witches; it was two in the morning already, but she knew she wouldn't be sleeping for a good long hours still. She felt hyper and full of energy with few odd giggles escaping her now and then; these would pass, Michaela reassured her, in a matter of days.

"It all started with the witch Queen Aine; she ruled once, over two millennia ago, in the isle now called Ireland. And though she was strong and so were her people, she saw that the magic around her was changing. Fewer and fewer witches were born with the instinctual magic every witch originally had." Evelyn explained. "Aine was an Oracle too; and in one of her visions one day she saw that, even if the magic in its most fundamental form wouldn't disappear, wouldn't be tempered in the magic we know now, the witches that would have those first gifs would be rare. And thus, the idea of the Sisterhood was born."

"Why is the Order consisted only of witches?" Ginny asked.

"It's in witches that those gifts manifest. That doesn't make us stronger of course." Michaela explained. "Merlin was the strongest wizard the world had ever seen, even if Morgana, who had been blessed with the ancient gifts and was powerful herself, lived at the same time as he."

"So, the Sisterhood was founded." Ginny prompted.

"Exactly." Evy said. "It wasn't of course until the time of Morgana when the Sisterhood was actually shaped to what it is today. There had been a war. A bitter war, one you'll find little about in your history books simply because it is not spoken of. Death and pain took the land as Queen Maeve's armies marched on."

"The Great War?" Ginny asked, looking at the two witches in confusion. "It thought that was just a fairy tale?"

"No, it was not." Michaela assured her. "Vivian, one of Merlin's students, had fallen in love with him. When he chose Morgana instead and wedded her…" Ginny's gasp caused Michaela to giggle. "Yes, they were married; interesting fact, no? Anyway, once Vivian found out, she left and turned to the dark arts and swore to ruin the very land Merlin had dedicated his life to protect. She assumed the name Maeve and raised her armies from the dead, with an artefact of her own creation. Very little we know of her sceptre, the one she used to control her army; some say it was the magic infused on the wood of it. Some say it was the stone. As it remains, not even we know what it truly was that gave her such power."

"So she led an army of inferi?" Ginny asked, paling at the mental image; she had heard the story many times over, of course. But she had though it just that; a story. Had the armies that terrified her so in her childhood truly walked the earth? Killing indiscriminately, poisoning the very ground they walked upon? "How can the world have forgotten?"

"The world didn't forget. But the world was very different back than; in the years that followed, the story became legend and the legend became myth, many different variations of what had happened surfacing. And then everything got tangled up with the Muggle version of the Arthurian legend and well, you get my drift." Evy explained.

"And how did the Sisterhood get involved?" The redhead asked, trying to remember everything her mother had once told her as a fairy tale.

"She didn't lead inferi to battle, not exactly." Michaela said. "Everybody thought that's what they were, of course. But those men -if you could call them that still- were capable of basic magic and weren't afraid of fire; they poisoned the earth and the water and the air and they couldn't be killed, unless beheaded." The story sounded so bizarre, so otherworldly, Ginny finally understood why it ended up being regarded as myth and nothing more.

"But that army must have been defeated somehow, right?" Ginny asked, looking from Evy to Michaela and back again.

"Of course." Evy assured her, smiling brightly. "The Lady Morgana assembled the Sisterhood then and suddenly Maeve's army faced dragons and giants and the very earth it was poisoning. Cursed as her men were, they were still men and sirens lulled them to their deaths. A great moment for the Sisterhood. Soon, Merlin and Morgana found Maeve; they fought and killed her, her body falling down the mountain where they fought. Nobody found her sceptre and it was better that way, I think. Not that anybody could use it, not that anybody knew how. The very moment she died, the army she had called from the dead perished with her, and that was the end of the Great War."

"But… if the Sisterhood has so much power, why not help with the wars after that?" Ginny wondered, thinking of how many lives could have been spared during the te past few decades alone.

"Because we're not supposed to be fighters; after the Great War, many kings asked for the Sisterhood's aid, of tried to control it's power. Seeing as such strength should not be held by one man alone, Morgana moved our Home up north, to the land that today is Norway." Evy explained, smiling widely. "There we remained, keepers of our magic, swearing never to get involved in war again unless attacked. We're not panacea, Ginny; we can not meddle with the story of the world. If wars start, they must be dealt with without us. We would very soon perish if we fought in every war; we're not immortal, Ginny. We wouldn't make it, in the long run, and our magic would vanish with us. Young witches born with gifts would have nobody to turn to."

"We are not warriors…" Ginny said, repeating the words so they could stick. She saw why, she understood. No matter what gifts you had, a well aimed curse could snuff your life away and then what. There are only forty-three of us, she recalled. So few to fight in every war.

"No." Michaela agreed. "We are guardians. We do not seek war, we do not seek glory or conquest. And, should the time come when we're needed again, when we are provoked, we will move. But until than, we remain in peace."

"So," Ginny asked, wondering if there was a book somewhere she could read to find more about the Great War, "what is Home, exactly?"

"Home is where we meet, where we study our arts. It's not a building as much as it is a grand, unplotted mountain plateau at the northern-most part the Jotunheimen mountains." Evy explained. Seeing Ginny's completely lost expression she laughed kindly. "I'll show you the mountains on a map before we get there, I promise. Anyway, my many times over great-grandmother, Queen Eydís, who was also a member of the Sisterhood, completely erased the plateau from any map. Home is possibly the most well kept secret location on the planet."

"Oh…" Ginny mumbled, completely overwhelmed by that point.

"You'll get used to it, eventually, worry not." Michaela stated. "There's a great library at Home, and rooms that will be yours for the rest of your life. You don't have to live there, but you are free to stay for as long as you wish."

"That's great, I think." Ginny offered, still not sure  _what_  to think exactly.

"The Sisterhood has three sisters leading it, with elections that take place once a decade. Our leaders at the moment are sister Elfë, sister Li Ling and sister Neha. You will get to meet them, tomorrow. Well," Michaela reconsidered looking at the clock that now read three thirty, "more like later tomorrow."

"And how many types of gifts are there?" Ginny asked, trying to absorb all information thrown her way.

"There are Oracles, Tamers, Sirens, Empaths -that's Michaela, by the way- Enchantresses, Healers and Nymphs. Sister Neha is charged to explain everything once we reach Home." Evy elaborated. Ginny nodded numbly.

"And I think we should call it a night." Michaela offered. "Tomorrow is a big day; we shall travel to Home by portkey but first," she said, smirking slightly towards Ginny, "we should notify your brother, at least. He works here, right? Charlie?"

"And there's that." Ginny realized, now completely dizzy. "How am I supposed to blurt out something like that?  _No, Charlie, I can't help you with the shelter today. Why? Oh, I joined the Sisterhood and have to leave the country to go meet everybody, of course! Don't wait up for dinner!_ " Michaela and Evy laughed at her expense, even as Ginny plopped on the couch. She had never truly stopped to consider what she would do _after_  she would join the Sisterhood. That should be an interesting morning.

"We can help explain, don't worry." Michaela offered, smiling as if she understood exactly what Ginny was going through. Wait,  _Empath_ , hadn't Evy said? She probably did understand perfectly then. My head hurts, Ginny thought and giggled. Oh well.

"And you should sleep here tonight." Evy offered. "There are two more empty rooms in this house, if I'm not mistaken." Ginny, who figured she would barely be able to make herself move from the couch, let alone drag herself to her room, nodded in agreement. She followed the two witches up the stairs and into her room for the night, wished them good dreams and plopped herself on the mattress, face down, buried in the pillow. Tomorrow -today- would be an interesting indeed.

 


	71. Number 12, Grimmauld Place

Well, Ginny Weasley thought, pulling the thick cloak she had been given closer to her body, Home wasn't exactly what she had imagined it to be. She had thought of a grand castle, much like Hogwarts, with a lake in front of it and a forest close by. In all honesty, of course, she didn't have that much of an experience with castles, except, obviously, her school. In retrospect, she should have known that Home would end up being something completely different from what she had made it out to be; and it was different. And so much better.

Her mind took her a few hours back, back in Romania. Ginny had woken up completely disorientated, in a bed that wasn't her own, in a room that wasn't the one she had shared with Marie. It took a few seconds and a minor panic attack for her to remember where she was and why she was there; it was only natural, she thought, that she would fall off the bed in her haste to reach the closest mirror, stumble on her own feet and cause enough ruckus to possible wake up half the settlement.

"Merlin, Ginny!" She chastised herself as she tried to untangle herself from the mess of the bed covers on the floor. She recalled how Astrid, Michaela and Evy held themselves, at least in public, and cursed again. She had never managed to pull of the elegant look, honestly, and she couldn't see how she could manage it now. Maybe she could ask Evy for pointers? Yes, she should, she decided, abruptly realising she was still on the floor.

"I'm hopeless." She declared to the empty room and rose up carefully, trying not to injure herself further in the process. With no additional accidents, she did manage to reach a mirror staring at her own reflection cursorily; she brought one hand tentatively towards her eyes, observing the light purple colour, trying to come to terms with a feature that would accompany her for the remainder of her days. It wasn't that bad, she decided -she tried to convince herself- and the contrast with her naturally pale skin was kind of pretty, which was a word she seldom used for herself.

"You're being silly." She admonished her reflection. "They could be red, remember?" She shuddered and sighed, wondering what she was supposed to do now. She knew she was supposed to visit Home -in Norway, she was going to  _Norway_ \- sometime later that day but first she would have to talk to…

"Charlie!" She exclaimed, her hand rising to cover her mouth in shock. How could she forget? What would her brother think of her? Would he be angry? She hoped not. She had better talk to him alone, she figured. He was usually one of the first to wake up, around six thirty and the time now was... half past eight, the clock on the nightstand informed her. She cursed inwardly; everybody would already be up and about and probably wondering where she was. And as if her brother had heard her calling, there were knocks on the door, frantic and continuous, accompanied by Charlie's voice.

"Open the door!  _Please_ , open the door! We need your help!" Well crap, Ginny thought, one hand slamming on her forehead in exasperation. Of course, she figured.  _Of course_ , she had overslept the one time she absolutely should not. She heard footsteps going down the stairs and soon Evelyn's voice as she opened the door to greet a frantic Charlie.

"Good morning, Mr. Wea…"

"My sister!" Charlie exclaimed interrupting her. "My sister is missing!" Ginny rushed to put on her shoes and climb down the stairs. No matter how terrified of facing Charlie she was, there was no way she would allow her brother to worry over nothing. Charlie was already stressing over Voldemort and how close to danger his family was and Percy being a prat; he shouldn't have to worry over her too.

"Your sister is…"

"Right here." Ginny stated, trying to appear as calm and confident as she could be, as she interrupted Michaela. The two witches smiled at her in encouragement while Charlie looked at her in pure relief. For a few seconds that is; then, he looked furious.

"What were you thinking, Ginny?" He shouted, walking into the house. "Do you have any idea how worried I was? I thought you were gone! I thought the Death Eaters had gotten you. I thought…"

"Charlie, please!" Ginny called, raising her hands in surrender. Charlie still looked furious, his face red as his hair, his hands trembling, but he did stop. "Thank you. There was something very important I had to do, last night."

"What could have been so important you couldn't have… couldn't have…" His voice trailed off as he locked eyes with his sister, noticing the change immediately. His face paled as swiftly as it had reddened, and he stopped moving altogether. "Ginny, what did you do?"

"You immediately figure I did something terrible, of course." Ginny muttered, smiling at her brother still.

"Your eyes, Ginny! This can't be good! How can you joke at a time like this?" Charlie asked, his hand covering his trembling lips.

"It is quite good, I assure you." Michaela said calmly. "It means she's one of us now. Our sister too." Charlie looked at her for a few seconds, completely baffled, as if he hadn't understood a single word she had spoken. Then, his eyes widened, his knees buckled and Evy led him backwards towards the couch so he wouldn't topple over on the floor.

"Your sister too?  _Sister_?" He asked in length, his voice climbing an octave in his shock.

"I'm part of the Sisterhood, Charlie, as of last night. I've been a novice this past year." Ginny explained.

"You're… How?" He inquired, still unable to take his eyes off the light lilac ones of his sister.

"I'm afraid I can't go into specifics." Ginny said, looking at him apologetically.

"While our members are known, the initiation process along with everything else remain secret, as I'm sure you're aware." Michaela explained, coming to stand next to Ginny.

"But Ginny, did you… Have you thought about this?" Charlie asked.

"I have. And this is where I belong, Charlie." Ginny assured him, smiling wide. About this, at least, she was certain.

"What will be required of you?" He asked, looking this time at Michaela and Evelyn. "Will she have to leave home?"

"No." Evy stated, smiling kindly. "She will stay at home and continue with her schoolwork, rest assured."

"And how will that work?" He asked.

"It will." Michaela offered as a response, not being in liberty to say more. "Rest assured, Mr. Weasley, that Ginny will be in safe hands. Only good can come of her being in the Sisterhood. She is our sister and she is, as she said herself, where she belongs."

"Ginny…"

"No, Charlie." Ginny said, this time resolute. "I'm part of the Sisterhood. It is final. It's what I want. Please, respect that."

"I… Ginny, this is too much to take in in just a few minutes, alright? Give a bloke a break!" He seemed to consider his next words at length before he uttered them. "Have you told Mum?"

"I will, in time." Ginny offered, trying not to let herself get terrified at the thought of  _that_  confrontation.

"Now, Mr. Weasley, we will have to borrow Ginny for a few hours today." Evy announced.

"Borrow her?"

"Part of the initiation process, I'm afraid." Michaela explained. "We will have her back before nightfall, don't worry."

"Can't I come along?" Charlie asked. "She's barely fourteen!"

"She will be with her sisters, Mr. Weasley." Evy offered. "Nothing bad will happen to her."

"I'll be fine, Charlie. Truly, I will be." Ginny added, smiling at her brother.

"You'll be back before nightfall?" He asked, locking eyes with her again. "Or I'll fire call Mum, I swear!"

"She will be." Michaela assured him. He nodded once, looked at Ginny again and then flew from his seat on the couch to envelope her in his arms.

"I can't say I understand but… The Sisterhood is a powerful order, isn't it?" Charlie wondered.

"Quite powerful." Evy stated.

"Then you can keep her safe?" He asked, looking at the blonde witch. "You know what's happening back home, surely you've heard something." The two witches nodded, while Ginny simply sighed in resignation; Charlie wouldn't be Charlie without his protective streak.

"We will do our best." Evy assured him. The next hour was the most awkward sixty minutes she had spent at the shelter; Mary and Leonie were looking at her as if she had grown a second head while Edward clearly stuttered the one time he dared talk to her. Even the trainers seemed to look at her oddly. Vesper, however, openly called them idiots and treated Ginny as she had always done, earning a wide, love-sick grin from Charlie; Ginny figured she should do something about those two. If she left it to her brother, he would wait and pine for the rest of his days.

"They'll get used to it." Michaela offered, understanding what was worrying her after observing yet some more nervy glances. " _You'll_  get used to it too." Ginny nodded, even if she wasn't sure she ever would; staring was something that unnerved her ever since the end of her first year. She hadn't truly considered  _that_ , Ginny realised, barely withholding a groan. She had hated the way the students of Hogwarts and part of the staff too stared at her sometimes; the first as if she was some circus freak-show -even if nobody knew exactly what had happened to her during her first year- and the second like she was to have a mental breakdown at the smallest touch. They did it out of worry, as her family did, she knew, but it didn't help her feel as if she had some stain on her soul, visible to all but herself.

It was when the stares became too hard that she found herself looking at her reflection on the mirror for hours after everybody else had gone to bed searching for that stain. And it was on nights after she had done so that the memory of Riddle laughed just bit louder, a bit colder in her dreams. But this time it would be different, she figured; they would still be staring at her true, but this time there would be no latent fear in their eyes. Just surprise and the novelty that would soon wear off. She could do this, she encouraged herself. She had chosen this. And she would welcome all the Sisterhood would bring to her.

As it turned out, it was a good thing that she departed for Norway very soon after she had strengthened her resolve. Because, Ginny thought, bringing herself back to the present, she would have probably stumbled over her own feet -fine, she did a little of that anyway- and stutter like a complete idiot -and alright, perhaps she did a bit of that too. At least neither Michaela nor Evy had laughed at her reaction.

Home was located in the end of the valley but one wouldn't tell simply by looking at the mountains at the end of the plateau. All one would see, even if they did, somehow, manage to find themselves into the unplottable valley, would be the side of a great, steep mountain, granite, ice and snow. Up to the point, of course, when Evy walked calmly towards the vertical side of the mountain ahead, Ginny and Michaela following her, and touched the rock with her palm.

"Only the Sisters can open this door." She said and took a few steps backwards. Ginny mimicked her but, before she could even manage to ask which door Evy was talking about, a soft white light emerged from where the older woman had touched the mountainside, spreading like veins on the granite until it shaped a luminescent door. It was roughly the height of Burrow, Ginny noted numbly as she looked up, before the door opened inwards, slowly and with a loud, groaning sound, sending the snow that had gathered on top of it on the ground.

"That's why you always take a few steps back once you open the door, especially after October. There is always some snow out here, but this is nothing comparing to the winter months. Even the spells around the door can't keep all of it at bay." Michaela explained, pointing at the small piles of snow on the ground. "All you have to do is touch the general area of where the door is located and then step back."

Ginny nodded, even if she didn't look at her while she spoke. No, her gaze was trained on the slowly opening doors and what they revealed. She found herself staring at a cave. Impossibly large, she noted, and warm, despite the definite cold outdoors. Light was pouring from a large opening high above the ground, hundreds and hundreds of feet above her. There where trees inside the cave, she realized, and it seemed she would get the forest she had expected after all, ancient pines and cedars stretching to her left as far as her eyes could see. She could faintly hear the sound of running water too. And ahead of her stood the actual settlement; seemingly curved straight onto the stone of the far end of the cave, a large building rose, shaped like something between a cathedral and a castle. Smaller buildings where spread around it, great fires lighting the area, reminding her of a painting of a Viking keep back at Hogwarts.

"Welcome Home, Ginny." Evy said softly, smiling at the younger witch.

"This is… it's…"

"Yes, exactly." Michaela offered, smiling too as she recalled her own reaction when she had first laid eyes on Home. "The words will come, don't worry."

"And this should be the welcoming party." Evy said, pointing at a group of women walking towards them. Ginny had a minor panic attack at the sight of the entire Sisterhood gathered at one place at the same time, just to meet her, but soon found herself smiling as she was introduced to everybody. There where only four more witches around her age -Matilda, Lora, Helena and Tatia- the rest of the women being older than her. All of them however where excited to have her here, apparently having waited for her arrival since last year. She soon came to realize why Home was called exactly that; it  _felt_  like home and she had barely been there for an hour! Introductions where made and Ginny laughed openly as forty two animated witches showed her around.

She was shown the library and the training areas, her own rooms and the dining hall. Some of the witches lived at Home permanently, Ginny realized, even if it was made quite clear that Home had been originally created for far more than forty three witches. The Sisterhood used to be much larger, Sister Neha -a beautiful woman with mocha coloured skin and thick, very long, black hair that claimed to be seventy years old but barely looked fifty- had explained. It used to include up to a hundred witches, but during the past five centuries their numbers had fallen to somewhere around forty.

She also explained what each category of gifts was about. Nymphs where the largest group in the Sisterhood, as it was the most generic. It included witches that were gifted in areas concerning nature. In short, they could use different elements of nature according to their personal affinities without spells or incantations. Three of their numbers could communicate with trees, in a way; not actually talking to them, but understanding nevertheless. The mechanics of their gift were mindboggling, so Ginny decided to just accept them as a fact. Healers did pretty much what was implied; sometimes having them simply stand inside a room with injured people could hasten the healing process, but with training they could apparently do much more.

Enchantresses were an interesting bunch, Ginny decided, and had the potential to cause the severest of headaches to her father. They could enchant the most mundane and everyday object at will, giving it magical properties. Be that making a teapot move or a pensive -after decades of training- they didn't need incantations. Empaths were… well, Neha wasn't exactly clear on that. From what Ginny had gathered they could not only sense people's feelings but feel them themselves. Some of the older witches could somehow affect the feelings of a group of people too. Remembering Michaela saying that not every power is a gift, Ginny wondered just how much feeling the things other people felt affected her.

Finally, coming to her own abilities, Sister Neha had spoken of tamers, how they could instinctively have some control over magical or not beasts and later on, when they had sufficiently trained, broaden their commands, adding details to what they asked of the beasts to do.

"I could explain Oracles and Sirens to you," Sister Neha said after that, "but I suspect Evy would do like to do that herself. Tomorrow, when you've settled down, we will talk on how your lessons with her may continue while you are at Hogwarts." She smiled at Ginny and Evy both, before walking towards her rooms. "We're all very happy to have you, Ginny. Welcome to the Sisterhood."

Ginny was smiling and talking to Evy, the older woman pointing out more and more details about Home and when it was founded, while the two witches walked towards Evy's rooms. When they did reach them, Ginny couldn't help but notice how much more furnished than hers they were.

"You are encouraged to bring your personal belongings to Home over time." Evy explained. "To make your rooms feel more personal to you."

"Oh, I see." Ginny muttered, as Evy led her towards a couch across a great window that overlooked the forest beneath.

"I've been bringing staff here since I was five." Evy explained, looking at Ginny as the redhead's eyes widened in confusion.

"Since you were five?"

"Yes." Evy confirmed, smiling fondly at the room around her. "One of the things Oracles can do that separates them from prophets, along with having more frequent premonitions than them, usually in them sleep, is that they can skry." At Ginny's confused stare, she elaborated. "It means that, provided we have seen the person we're looking for or have something of them, we can find them anywhere in the world. And, with many - _many_ \- years of training if we have both seen them and the area they're at, we can see and hear what they're doing for a few moments."

"That's… quite wicked actually!" Ginny admitted, looking -and feeling- impressed.

"Why thank you!" Evy exclaimed and mock bowed to an imaginary audience. "In all seriousness though, some say the most powerful of Oracles can project what they see; you know, all that enchanted mirrors lore and stuff. Morgana le Fay was supposed to be able to control her visions too. I can do neither." She admitted, shaking her head.

"Yet." Ginny offered earning herself a smile. "I mean, you're what, twenty-three, twenty-four?"

"I'm twenty-eight, actually." Evy stated, smiling even wider. "I'm taking that as a compliment though."

"You should." Ginny offered. "Could Morgana really control her visions though?"

"So the legend goes." Evy offered. "And if you believe in legends, this one is supposed to be her mirror, the one she used to project her skrying on." She said, pointing at a beautifully carved, large mirror on the wall.

"Really?" Ginny asked, staring at the mirror wide eyed.

"That's what my family always believed. When Morgana passed on to Avalon, she supposedly left her mirror to my family as a gift for the grounds they gave her to build Home. It has always been kept in my family's vault, till I turned five and my mother realized I was skrying to find my brothers when we played hide-and-go-seek." Ginny chuckled along with Evy, picturing the incident. "My father gave it to me as a gift when I joined the Sisterhood. My brothers still claim that I'm a cheater and have never played hide-and-go-seek with me since."

"How many brothers do you have?" Ginny asked, wiping a tear from her face as her laughter died down.

"Three." Evy offered, grimacing slightly. "All older and bigger than me, as they never fail to remind me. There's Alrek, who's six years older than me, Erik who's five years older and Baldor who's just two years older. They're ridiculously overprotective, they tower over me and they baby me every chance they get. I love them to pieces but they drive me crazy." Ginny nodded in commiseration; if one judged from Evelyn and based on how she had just described her brothers, they probably looked like the Viking warriors of legend.

"You know, I have six of those." She admitted.

"Six of wh…  _six older brothers_?" Evy asked, eyes widening.

"Yep! First Weasley girl in ten generations, me!" And she talked about them a little, their names and how they treated her as if she would break at the first strong wind.

"That's a bit…"

"Yeah, it is." Ginny agreed, giggling. "Anyway, how many Oracles are there in the Sisterhood right now?"

"Just the one." Evy admitted, pointing at herself and pulling a face. "There were always few Oracles around even when the Sisterhood was larger. Usually, we have more Nymphs and Healers. Then there are some Enchantresses too and, of course, Empaths. Michaela is the strongest Empath he have had in centuries, you know."

"But I'm the only Tamer?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, at least presently. At least we are both Sirens." Evy offered. "It has been a bit awkward for me, not to have anybody to train me." She admitted. "What I know, I know from books and the memories left in the Sisterhood's Pensives." And it must have been a bit lonely, Ginny thought. Also could be the reason why Evy appeared so unsure on whether she would be a good instructress or not.

"Well, at least between the two of us, we have two Sirens now, as you said. That must count for something!" She offered, smiling widely.

"I suppose it does, yes." Evy agreed, feeling just a bit surer about herself; she had a feeling she had been meant to help Ginny with her gift and, as an Oracle, she would be silly indeed if she didn't heed her feelings. So, she decided to tell Ginny just that.

"And I think I was meant to be here." Ginny offered, smiling back. "I don't really know why."

"Good, that makes three of us!" A third voice echoed in the room, startling both witches out of their conversation. They turned towards the source of the voice. "Although I  _do_  know why." There was a woman in the mirror, Ginny thought numbly, looking towards Evy; maybe this was something the mirror did, some sort of an enchantment. Judging from the way Evy's eyes widened and her lips parted in shock, it probably wasn't the case.

"Ginny, there's a woman in the mirror." Evy stated, shaking her head. "Tell me you see the woman too, Ginny."

"I can, although I don't know how that might reassure you." The redhead stated, still shocked.

"Oh, I'm here alright!" The woman offered. She looked young, around the same age as Evy, with pale skin, black hair and turquoise coloured eyes. "I have a very strong urge to hug you both," the woman stated, "but I'm afraid I can not. As Evelyn said, I'm in the mirror."

"I… Why?" Evy stuttered, while Ginny nodded emphatically. What was going on? How much more bizarre this day could get?

"Why I want to hug you, of why am I in the Mirror?" The unknown woman asked and smirked playfully.

"Both." Ginny offered. It was Evy's turn to nod.

"I'm in the mirror because I needed to talk to you. And, alright, I'm not exactly  _in_  the mirror. I'm in Avalon. But you can see me though the mirror because that's the reason why I created it, for you to see me. I'm not making much sense, am I?" The woman asked as Ginny plopped back on the couch -when had she gotten up, she wondered- feeling dizzy.

"Not much, no." Evy offered, following Ginny's example. She had a feeling that, whomever this woman was, she meant them no harm. There where two problems with that assessment; one, there was a strange woman in the mirror that claimed to be in Avalon, of all places, and had already spoken her name even if Evy didn't remember giving it. And two, Evy wasn't an Empath. As much as she had learned to trust her instincts, the facts remained that  _there was a strange woman in the bloody mirror_. So, she gripped her wand tight in her hand; if she had to blast a family heirloom to smithereens, well, so be it.

"Let me take it from the beginning then, alright?" The woman asked and cleared her throat. "Hello, Evy, Ginny. My name is Morgana and this is my mirror; I created it long before you were born and gave it to the family I knew you would be born into, Evy, for safekeeping. Its sole purpose is to allow me to reach you just this once from Avalon, giving me the chance to deliver a prophecy I made concerning you in person. Or, as in person as possible." The woman stated. "And I feel like hugging you because I've been waiting for more than a millennia for this prophecy to come full circle. So, if you could imagine me hugging you, you'd do me a great service."

Ginny opened and closed her mouth silently a few times, making no noise whatsoever. Evy blinked owlishly at the woman who claimed to be the fabled Morgana le Fey, equally stunned into silence. They looked at each other for a few seconds and then resumed their silent staring at the woman.

"Well, say something!" The black haired witch who claimed to be Lady Morgana prompted them.

"But you can't be her." Evy stated. "You can't be Lady Morgana! She's in…"

"Avalon?" The woman asked, cocking an eyebrow, apparently amused. "But I am in Avalon."

"Are you talking to them?" A male voice sounded from the background. It was a bedroom, Ginny realized, that was reflected in the mirror, but not Evy's. And as her mind numbly pondered on that, an old, wrinkled man with a beard long enough to put Dumbledore's into shame stepped into the frame.

"Hello!" He greeted the two witches cheerfully.

"Hello." They croaked back, automatically. What in the seven Hells was going on?

"What are you doing here, husband dearest?" The woman asked, shaking her head in frustration, even if a soft smile on her lips negated her somewhat stern voice. Those two were married? Ginny found herself wondering, looking from the stunningly beautiful woman to the old man next to her; a very odd couple, she decided.

"Husband?" Evy asked, treading her fingers through her hair.

"Why, yes. Merlin, at your service!" This time, Ginny audibly gasped.

"Merlin?" She asked, looking from the woman who claimed to be Morgana, to the man claiming to be Merlin.

"Stop, scaring them, Merlin!" Morgana, if that was who she was, ordered. "You should have made your own mirror, if you wanted one. You chose that painting and that infernal spell of yours!" She stated, managing to confuse the two witches even more. "And get rid of that ridiculous disguise!"

"People always take me more seriously if I look old." The man stated. "It's what they're expecting of me, you see, dearest."

" _Merlin_!"

"Fine, fine." The man grumbled, and suddenly his characteristics blurred and rapidly transformed. His hair shortened and darkened. His wrinkles and beard disappeared and, suddenly, a young, handsome raven haired man with big blue eyes and high cheekbones looked at them through the mirror. There was a mischievous smile on his lips. "Shocked yet?" He asked, his voice deeper and less frail sounding than before. His wife sent him a glare so he sighed and nodded. "Anyway, Morgana is right. I shouldn't be here. I just wanted to see the other half of that prophecy. Nice meeting you Evy, Ginny." She turned to his wife and kissed her once on her lips. "I'll be waiting in the front garden with the royal prat you have for a brother." He stated and, with a final nod, disappeared from view.

"He's an utter idiot, of course." Morgana stated -and how nice, now I'm actually calling her Morgana, Ginny thought- "But I do love him. Men." She said and shook her head.

"How can you possibly be Morgana?" Evy asked.

"I was born, for starters." She stated but soon grew serious as she saw how confused the two women facing her still were. "I am Morgana, and I will try to prove it. Maybe I should start by telling you the actual prophecy. It was I who made it, as I've told you, so I felt it was I who had to deliver it. You have to hear it, I believe; then, I shall try to explain. Agreed?"

"I suppose so." Evy offered, her throat feeling dry, her voice hoarse. Morgana smiled and started reciting;

_The son of the father who is not the father_

_Born under the moon of Claiming and of Thunder and of Hay_

_Born as the seventh month dies_

_Will bring the end to an era of darkness_

_And the beginning of the years of prosperity_

_For all that is magic_

_And the father of the son who is not the son_

_Father in heart and soul and everything but blood_

_Will protect and guide him_

_Shelter him and lead him_

_He will teach his son, the more worthy of a pair_

_The sworn protector of his brother_

_The neglected child_

_To overpower the darkness of his time_

_And united with the one who Sees and her sister who is not her sister_

_The keeper of magic that is old_

_The father and the son will find_

_Their path in life_

"Anything sounding familiar in my prophecy? Anything you can relate to?" Morgana asked. "Anything you recognize?"

"The one who Sees and her sister who is not her sister, the keeper of magic that is old." Evelyn muttered, her eyes wide. "I'm an Oracle. I See. And my sister who is not my sister…" She looked at the redhead next to her. "Ginny?"

"Yes." Morgana stated.

"But the Sisterhood has forty one more witches." Ginny offered. "All of them are and aren't Evy's sisters. They could all fit the bill." Her protest was half hearted, mostly because a different part of the prophecy had caught her interest. It was something that had been in the back of her mind for years, a nagging thought she couldn't shake off.

"You say that and yet you recognize something of the prophecy, something quite different, don't you?" Morgana prompted, causing Ginny to nod once and Evy to turn her attention on her.

"I think so…" Ginny stated, still unsure. "Born under the moon of claiming and of thunder and of hay, you said. As the seventh month dies?"

"Yes. The first part of the prophecy talks about a man that was born on the last day, on the 'death' of July." Morgana stated.

"Adrian Potter?" Evy asked, sounding completely bewildered.

"No." Ginny stated, suddenly certain of her deduction. Morgana smiled. "The sworn protector of his brother, the neglected child." She recited. "Not Adrian.  _Harry_  Potter."

"Harry Potter?" Evy asked, her eyes even wider now. She recalled the picture of green eyed teenager Matilda and Tatia had been mooning over in an issue of Witch's Weekly. Harry Potter, the boy that had created the Firebolt and had won the Triwizard Tournament at the age of fourteen.

"How long have you suspected the boy was hiding something from the world?" Morgana asked, smiling kindly at Ginny.

"Three years." Ginny offered, lilac eyes staring at nothing as memories of that day flooded her mind. "He… he saved my life, you know. Mine and his brother's."

"How?" Evy asked, utterly intrigued. Even Morgana seemed to scoot closer to the surface of the mirror. Ginny, opting to give in to the complete bizarreness of the day, moved closer to the mirror herself, seating on Evy's bed. Evy pulled the chair in front of her boudoir sideways, seating herself between Ginny and Morgana.

"It all started during my first year at Hogwarts." Ginny explained, narrating her misadventures at the hands of the Dark Lord and her kidnapping. Once she had completed the story of her rescue she stopped, waiting for their reactions.

"And he said nothing?" Evy asked. "He just left himself fade into the background as his brother took credit for everything?"

"Merlin said that Harry took the prophecy to heart; he believed his place  _was_  in the shadows. Even if he was the true Boy Who Lived, the vanquisher of the Dark Lord Voldemort. So did his father." Morgana stated.

"The  _real_  Boy Who Lived?" Evy asked, looking at the two other witches in the room, both the one in the mirror and the one on her right. She had imagined a revelation of that sort was coming next, what with the boy in the prophecy being predicted to bring forth the end to an era of darkness, but suspecting it and hearing it were two very different things.

"Yes." Morgana stated. "My husband has been quite adamant on that and he has talked to Harry in person." She explained. "He has even seen the memory of that night, when the one you call Lord Voldemort attacked the two Potter boys. Why Harry has chosen to hide his identity as the Boy Who Lived is a different matter completely; I suspect you'd have to speak to him in person to find out about his reasoning."

"You don't mean James Potter, I presume." Ginny said abruptly, after a long pause. "When you talked about Harry's father, I mean." She elaborated.

"No." Morgana offered.

"The father of the son who is not the son." Evy repeated the prophecy.

"Professor Snape." Ginny stated. "The man raised him. The two of them are very close; if anybody knows about Harry, that would be Severus Snape."

"It is." Morgana assured her.

"Wait a moment, please." Evy asked, raising her hands. " _The_  Severus Snape?" She asked. "As in, inventor of the permanent Wolfsbane, youngest potions master in the past half millennia,  _that_  Severus Snape?"

"You've heard of the man, I presume?" Morgana asked, looking at Evy with a sly smile. To Ginny's surprise, Evy blushed.

"I've never met him, but I have heard of him." And if she had found herself staring at his pictures of the  _Witch Weekly_  photoshoot once or twice, well, that was quite irrelevant. "I've studied Magical History and he published an amazing article on the seventh century magical procedures of the Scandinavian scholars. I have no idea how he did it, considering he's a potions master, but he described the processes with extreme accuracy and raised the point of an early form of Arithmancy imbedded in Elder Furthnak. I was impressed." That was completely true, she thought. No need to remind herself of that photoshoot anyway. Counterproductive, if nothing else.

"Elder Furthnak,  _right_." Ginny stated, looking at Morgana, a smile on her face. The Weasley inside her was wondering if the potions master was dating anybody at the moment. And even if her more grounded part was reminding her that it wasn't her business if he was dating or not, she was, at the moment, in a hidden valley talking to the Lady Morgana through and enchanted mirror. She could afford some of the Weasley spirit to come through.

"Let's return to the prophecy, please." Evy said, refusing to look at Ginny for the time being. Not that she was blushing, or anything. Nope. No, sir!

"Seeing how our time together is limited, I should advise the same." Morgana stated.

"What are we supposed to do now?" Ginny asked, looking at the witch in the mirror expectantly.

"Talk to Harry and Severus; the prophecy clearly states that you're meant to help them." Morgana offered. "The rest, you will see from there."

"How can we help?" Evy asked.

"I know not." Morgana said, shaking her head. "Prophecies can mean a lot of things even when they appear to give specific details about what's about to happen, something that this one does not. You should approach Harry and Severus, as I said. They will probably have a plan of action already."

"And we're supposed to aid them in the fight against Voldemort?" Evy wondered out loud.

"The prophecy doesn't exactly state that either." Morgana reminded her. "You're supposed to help them tread their chosen path, wherever that may lead. Though, yes, it does appear most probable that it will lead them to a fight against Voldemort."

"That's… Honestly, quite a lot to take in." Ginny said; it was true, the battle against the Dark Lord had an even more personal tint for her than it did for her brothers, for example, but she had never considered what her part would be when the war actually started. Now, it seemed that fate wanted her to play a more active role than what she had imagined. She turned to look at Evy; at least she wouldn't have to do it alone. She wondered how Luna would react to all of these revelations, should she find out. Could she tell Luna? If the prophecy concerned just her, she would share the news in a heartbeat. But, as it were, the prophecy was more about Harry than anything else. He would have to be the one to choose with whom he would share his secret with.

"If we have to speak to Mr. Potter and Mr. Snape and then help them," Evy said, considering the whole situation carefully, "then I will have to find a feasible reason concerning why I will spend so much time around them; I was already considering fixing something up so that we could start your lessons. I'm supposed to attend a fundraiser Minister Fudge is holding in five days time; maybe I can start from there." She added, looking at Ginny.

"We will have to think something up, though asking around wouldn't hurt." The redhead offered, looking at the Lady in the mirror. She sighed, once again considering the possibility that this was all some weird dream she was having. Still, after pinching herself hard once, she finally accepted that she was awake indeed; she had no idea what the future had in store for her and Evy -for it was now undeniable that their paths had been meant to cross- but she was determined to face it head on. She turned her attention back to Evy and the Lady Morgana; the Lady was explaining how the magic of the mirror was soon to fade, leaving it a normal mirror once again. Evy had taken that opportunity to ask a few questions about her abilities as an Oracle. Ginny listened on, her mind travelling to the many different scenarios that could play out from that moment on.

And many miles to the south, across the English Channel, a group of four people was trying to come up with different scenarios themselves, in an attempt to solve the latest riddle they had been handed. Severus Snape, Harry Potter, Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy were gathered around the kitchen table of Silbreith working on their latest theory concerning Voldemort and the possibility he had created a Horcrux.

"This is ridiculous." Neville complained, kneading the sore muscles of his right shoulder where a large, purple bruise lay. The four wizards had decided looking around the dungeons of Orbein that very morning, before the goblin crew Harry had hired to start laying the new pipelines would arrive. The green eyed teen later thought he should have expected something of the sort to happen but, he had to admit, he had been completely taken by surprise when they had run into a small group of cockatrices in the dungeons. The beasts had been dealt with, of course, but not before leaving them all with a few scratches and bruises to show for their efforts.

"What is?" Draco asked.

"This!" Neville exclaimed, pointing at the piles upon piles of notes and theories they had accumulated on the table. "We have been at this for…" he looked at his watch "eighteen hours straight, without sleeping…"

"And without eating!" Minnie's voice echoed from behind the kitchen counter. The elf then proceeded to place a tray of croissants on the table, sending the four wizards a menacing stare that clearly stated "eat!" before leaving the room.

"… and without eating, thank you Minnie," Neville continued, "and all we can say for certain is that Voldemort is as much mentally unstable as we had always suspected!" He concluded. "This is ridiculously frustrating."

"It is frustrating." Severus agreed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He had hoped they would have found something more by now, after combing through the part of the library of Orbein where they had found that first book, but nothing. They found books on necromancy and the darkest of rituals but nothing else mentioned horcruxes even in passing -and if that wasn't a sign of how they were products of the darkest, the foulest of magics, then he didn't know was- and it didn't seem they would find any more. And, as if the lack of information at hand wasn't enough, there was also the subject of how Voldemort had used whatever knowledge he had unearthed on the subject.

"Let's go over what we've com up with one more time." Harry pleaded, pouring himself one more cup of coffee and practically inhaling a large gulp of it.

"We know that Voldemort has made a horcrux for himself at the age of sixteen." Draco stated. He rubbed his eyes tiredly fighting off a headache; he had received a letter from his mother last night when they had returned from a late visit to Orbein. He could practically read her desperation on the parchment. His mother had practically begged him not to return home at all during the summer; she had sent him an adequate amount of money to cover any expenses he would have over the summer, including the money for his school supplies. Narcissa had also implied that he should stop whatever it was she believed he was doing for Voldemort's sake.

" _It would be inadvisable to keep meddling with your father's business, Draco."_  She had written.  _"These are matters for adults and you should stop any interference immediately."_  At least everybody still believed him to be spying on Harry, Draco had thought to himself, feeling a heavy weight landing on his shoulders; he had tried to think things through, tried to come up with an ending for the coming war where his parents wouldn't find themselves on the losing side, imprisoned, injured or even worse.

Somewhere along the way Draco had realized he had developed a sort of unshakable faith -well, not exactly to the light sight per se- to Harry; it wasn't just feeling like a part of an actual family for the first time. It wasn't even having found himself with not just one but two brothers out of the blue. No, it was the fact that he found himself believing that Harry would be the one to win this war. He was certain it wouldn't be easy but he had seen his youngest brother's abilities develop in front of his own eyes. He had witnessed Harry's drive to succeed, watched as he worked day and night, without sleep, barely eating, in order to do what needed to be done in order to end this war. He had stood by him as he made deals with illegal animagi and goblins and he had found himself believing they could actually win this.

When he had come to Silbreith at the beginning of the summer, he had only thought that it was time he did the right thing; what Voldemort was planning to do was plain wrong, in every sense of the word and Draco had simply refused to have any part of it. It was a path he had never considered taking before but Harry had proven to him, time and time again, that he didn't have to make the same choices his family had. That it was okay to have his own opinion. And Draco had chosen to help Harry because he was his brother and he cared for him and Neville more than words could describe. But he loved his parents too and he had seen that he couldn't stand by them in this war. He had chosen to do the right thing too. But he hadn't been sure that they would win; Dumbledore, the leader of the Light was ignoring Harry. Fudge was ignoring Dumbledore when the Headmaster said that the Dark Lord had returned and Harry seemed to have nobody but Severus on his side, even his own twin brother distancing himself.

And then of course, he had heard the whole tale from Harry, how he had already faced Voldemort twice and won since he had arrived at Hogwarts, how he had been the reason the Dark Lord had fallen in the first place. And since then, everything he had seen had helped in making him even more certain of his brother's abilities, even more assured there was hope. So, he had decided to do more than he had originally thought he would do; instead of simply supporting his brother, Draco had decided to pull his own weight and aid the Light side in anyway he could. Well, Harry's side in any case.

Horcruxes… well, horcruxes had been an unexpected development. Severus had opted not to even describe the general idea of how one was made, other than the fact that a murder was required, and Draco, judging by the pallor of the potions master's face and the few tidbits he had caught here and there, he had decided that had been the best thing he could have done. Horcruxes were plainly disgusting and the idea that Voldemort had them, well, was unnerving to say the least. Then again, if anybody was deranged enough to chose to create a horcrux, that would be Voldemort.

"That does explain the diary." Severus agreed, bringing Draco back to the matter at hand. "It had to have been a horcrux." The potions master continued. "Memories can be stored inside objects but they definitely can not interact with people. And they do not control eleven year olds to reach their goals, let alone manage to come to life by absorbing their life force."

"But a piece of a soul might." Neville interjected. They had talked about that too; as long as a part of a soul was anchored to the world, according to the book they had found, it could inhabit a body, possess it, or acquire one of its own.

"Though that can't have been the original use for the horcrux, right?" Harry suddenly asked, looking at an Arithmancy chart he had concocted some few hours before dawn. He had scribbled it down, not really paying attention to what he was doing, while listening to his father theorize. Once he actually took note of what he had been doing, his breath caught. It was a chart based on the theory that somebody could create more than one horcruxes; supposing one could, the chart described the amount of the original soul that would fit in each horcrux, progressively cataloguing how much of the caster's soul would remain in his original body.

Harry had reached up to ten horcruxes before he caught himself and couldn't help but feel nauseous as he noticed the tiny morsel of a soul that had been left remaining inside the imaginary creator at the end. He had no idea how large a part of a soul would have to reside in a horcrux to make it functional -even though the book loosely implied even the tiniest part would be enough- but that number by the end of the chart was… sickening. Purely sickening; who would willingly amputate their souls even to a bare minimum? Why? The answers "Voldemort" and "immortality" popped unbidden into his head but that didn't improve things at all.

"Hm?" Neville mumbled, unable to express the fact that he had heard an understood what his brother had said in any other way.

"I mean, the use of a horcrux is to work as an anchor; if a part of a person's soul remains in some form, trapped inside a vessel, then the part of the soul that resides in the creator of said horcrux can't depart from this world either, even if the body that contains it gets destroyed." Harry explained, the three wizards around the table nodding in agreement. "Voldemort couldn't have possibly wished for two separate versions of himself existing. One, because that would mean the horcrux would then be its own person and thus useless, and two because, let's face it, Voldemort wouldn't want to have to compete with his own self in his quest for dominance."

"That's completely messed up, of course." Severus stated, agreeing nonetheless. "That too would solidify the hypothesis that the soul inside the horcrux has a will of its own."

"Reassuring." Neville mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Certainly." Harry agreed, his voice dripping sarcasm. "But it might prove helpful."

"It can?" Draco asked, looking at his brother, grey eyes widening as much as his tiredness allowed. Severus waited silently for his son to continue while Neville shook his head vividly to chase sleep away for a while longer.

"Think about it." Harry prompted them. "If there is a part of Voldemort's soul out there that has a will of its own and the potential to cast magic, as the one in the diary did, then it will carry his magical signature; Voldemort generally covers his signature diligently but when I was in his presence, in the cemetery, I felt it loud and clear. I believe I can recall how it felt, should I try. And if I ever got in rage of a horcrux then I think I would know."

"Are we going to presume he made more than one?" Neville asked, looking his brother forlornly.

"I think we should." The green eyed wizard said. "I think that… Look, we know he had one horcrux that held him anchored to the world fourteen years ago. Since his soul remained here even though he was supposed to have died, the horcrux did its job. Let's now suppose that the horcrux that kept him alive that night was the diary. Even if it was destroyed, the remaining part of Voldemort's soul wouldn't have been affected at that point; a horcrux is the anchor that pulls you back when you're in the brink of death but not what keeps you there after all is said and done. Even without a horcrux, the soul of Voldemort that now occupies his body would have stayed on earth." Harry said, trying to explain his line of thinking.

"According to the book at least." Severus offered, looking at his son expectantly. "But why would that justify thinking he had more than one horcruxes?"

"Because even if he didn't need the horcrux after he attacked me and Adrian, while he roamed the lands as a spirit, he sure as hell needed it _before_. If it was the one thing that guaranteed his survival, he would have kept it somewhere safe, somewhere nobody could ever reach it." Harry explained. "But he didn't do that at all, did he?"

"No, he…" Severus muttered, looking at Draco abruptly. "Draco, did your father ever mention where he found that diary?"

"I don't think he did." Draco said slowly before shaking his head, as if to clear the fog from his thoughts. "Find it that is; I don't think he found it."

"What do you mean?" Neville beat everybody else in asking.

"I remember that day well because…" He looked at the three wizards around him before shrugging. "No point to mincing my words I suppose." He mumbled and carried on. "My father had heard of a rumor, you see, that impromptu raids would start in search for dark objects. He thought it was high time to get rid of some of the most incriminating ones; he had a whole room filled with them at the time, right beneath the living room. I know he took the diary from that room because I was there when he opened it. And I was there when he visited Borgin's to sell some of the more portable objects. I can recall the diary quite clearly because I saw him looking at it for a few seconds before putting it back into his pocket." Draco shrugged again. "I suppose he decided against selling at the very last minute. I didn't ask what the diary was, or why he didn't sell it, I just… I did nothing."

"You were twelve." Severus stated, looking at the blond intently. "What could you have done?"

"I don't know." Draco admitted. "But Harry was twelve too and he had already faced Voldemort once. Twice if you count their first encounter; even if you don't remember it, brother." He added, seeing how Harry was about to protest. "You'd think I would have been able to say something when seeing my own father fencing cursed items like that."

"Ah, no." Neville deadpanned. "You were  _twelve_  and he is your  _father_. It's perfectly understandable."

"Choosing not to face Voldemort at eleven would have also been understandable but…" Draco was interrupted by Harry at that point.

"But I did, yeah. I had also frozen in fear one week before that when I should have acted to save my twin and you, Draco, at the Forbidden Forest. Oh yeah, I was there!" He added, watching his brother's gray eyes widen in surprise. "I also killed a man when I was eleven, something you didn't do either. And I wouldn't have gone against my father when I was twelve. I don't think I would even now. Just you know," he said looking at Severus "don't start fencing cursed objects so that I won't have to test my theory, alright Dad?"

"I shall do my best to resist the urge." Severus deadpanned.

"So stop blaming yourself for being a child at age twelve and loving your father unconditionally and let's return to the subject at hand." Harry declared. "So, you believe Lucius had the book in his possession all along."

"I think so." Draco said, looking at his brother, smiling slightly despite the subject of the conversation. Was that what being truly accepted felt like?

"That… makes no sense at all actually." Severus offered, closing his eyes, rubbing soothing circles on his temples. "Why would Lucius have the diary?"

"And why sell a horcrux? Voldemort's horcrux in particular." Neville asked, voicing the question running through all of their minds.

"He wouldn't." Severus stated. "Unless, of course, he didn't know what the diary really was. I don't see how he could know. Voldemort would definitely not have shared such information with him."

"He wouldn't tell my father what the diary was but he gave it to him anyway?" Draco asked.

"See what I mean?" Harry inquired, looking at his family intently. "Voldemort wouldn't have simply given away a part of his soul,  _his only means of survival should things go south_ , just like that! Do you realize what power that would give Lucius and how vulnerable it would make him? Voldemort would  _never_  do that."

"No he wouldn't." Severus agreed.

"But that would mean…"

"That this wasn't his only horcrux." Harry stated, interrupting Neville. "Maybe his first -he was sixteen at the time, after all- but definitely not his only one."

"Hell!" Draco offered, his exclamation being followed by a lengthy silence.

"So, what now." Neville asked. "I mean, we do know that there's one more horcrux out there…"

"In the least." Harry interjected, causing Severus to shiver. Harry was right, after all; if Voldemort had managed to create more than one horcruxes, what would stop him from making more? Nothing, was the answer, as sickening as that thought was.

"…what do we do now?" Neville concluded. "We don't know where that -or  _those_ , Merlin help us!- horcrux is. We don't know what it is!"

"That's true." Severus said, his headache intensifying.

"If it were you," Draco began, looking around the table, "what would you even do with a horcrux you have made?"

"Honestly?" Harry asked, smiling ruefully. "I would have made a bloody pebble into my horcrux, carved anti-summoning, concealing and preservation sigils on it and thrown the damn thing into the deepest ocean. And let whoever searched for it have his fun looking!" Silence met his words.

"I truly hope Voldemort didn't do that." Severus muttered. "If he did, we're doomed."

"But he didn't." Harry said, brimming with anger. "He killed an innocent girl and made a horcrux out of his diary! And for what purpose? The part of his soul inside the diary said he had initially meant to eradicate all the muggleborn from Hogwarts before he heard of Adrian. Its purpose was murder!" The coffee in his cup started boiling in front of everybody's eyes. Harry took a deep breath; the boiling stopped. "Sorry, I… I don't even know what happened."

"You're enraged, that's what happened. Your magic reacted." Severus offered, tousling his son's hair. "I am too. Just remember, we know what he did now; we know what we must do to stop him. That's something."

"But is it enough?" Harry wondered out loud. His son, Severus thought, always managed to ask the most difficult and most important questions. Was it enough? Merlin, he hoped so!

"We'll have to make it enough." Neville stated, smiling at Harry. The wizard in question nodded, his eyes closing as he tried to fend of his lingering anger. He could be angry at the Dark Lord later; for now, he had to concentrate.

"I guess we'll have to." Severus stated, looking at his watch and cursing under his breath.

"What?" Harry asked looking at his pocket watch before groaning. "Already?"

"If we don't hurry we'll be late, actually." Severus offered, his upper lip curling in distaste.

"I can't believe we got roped into this." Harry bemoaned as Neville and Draco chuckled. "Well, you can laugh."

"Yes, we can." Neville said. " _We_  won't be the ones cleaning for the rest of the day."

"Thanks for reminding me, Nev."

"No problem, mate!" Draco chuckled again at his brothers' display. Last night they had received a note from Dumbledore, asking them if they could help getting the Headquarters into working order. Apparently, the Potters and most of the Weasleys would attend. Severus had initially wanted to reply with a flat out "no", but thought better on it; he had never stepped foot inside Sirius' ancestral house. He wanted to have the lay of the land before the meetings actually started. And he wanted to be there every time Dumbledore visited; he would need information for the coming war and, even though Dumbledore wasn't prone to sharing, he held most of the answers. It was highly unlikely, of course, but the Headmaster might just let something slip, out of context. Well, out of context to anyone in the know; maybe he would be able to pick something up, the potions master thought. So, he had decided to go.

The note the Headmaster had sent, however, lightly cautioned on the prudence of having Draco along too. Severus had rolled his eyes as he read the note aloud, Harry had smiled widely and cursed the Headmaster something wicked, Draco had shrugged it off and Neville had offered to stay behind to keep his blond brother company.

"It's a cruel and unusual punishment." Harry stated, gulping down the remainder of his coffee, completely forgetting that he had brought the drink to a boil a mere minute ago. "Damn it!" He exclaimed, gulping down the scorching liquid as his family winced. He immediately pulled out his wand and cast a mild healing spell on himself.

"Watch it there, Harry." Draco cautioned, filling a glass with water and offering it to his brother.

"Are you alright?" Severus asked.

"No!" Harry stated. "I need sleep; I should get some sleep and then go oversee the renovations at Orbein. For all I know, the goblins there might run into a troll nest on the third floor, get injured and have me pay for their hospitalization along with the pipe installation!"

"I don't think trolls know how to climb stairs." Neville muttered sleepily, scratching the back of his neck thoughtfully causing Harry to pause mid-rant and laugh.

"I'm trying to rant over here, Nev!"

"Sorry for the interruption?" The brown eyed asked, yawning.

"At least the two of you should get some sleep." Severus offered, chuckling softly. "We should be back before lunch."

"Can't we make it sooner?" Harry asked, rising from his chair and yawning himself. "Don't you have that ball Fudge is throwing to attend anyway, Dad?"

"No, that's tomorrow night." Severus said, grimacing once again. He wanted to speak to Fudge up close when the man was at his most relaxed state to find out what he was planning; there was some talk about changes even inside Hogwarts and the potions master didn't like the sound of that one bit.

"Well, Fudge can't do anything right, can he?" Harry grumbled, pouring himself some more coffee, ascertaining it was only lukewarm this time before actually drinking it. "Oh fine, I suppose I can survive eight brain-numbing hours of scrubbing floors."

"Just hang in there." Draco offered. "Why don't you use that time to test your theory?"

"What theo… Oh, you mean recalling Voldemort's magical signature?" Harry asked; maybe that was worth a shot.

"Yes. Except if, deep down, you're really excited by the prospect of scrubbing floors…"

"The word you're looking for, Draco, is "thrilled"." Harry stated dryly, following his father out of the kitchen and towards the fireplace. After a few more words of encouragement, Severus and Harry bid Neville and Draco goodbye and stepped into the fireplace to floo at number 12, Grimmauld Place. Harry was second to floo over and, upon arriving, found himself suppressing a groan. The house was old and must have once been impressive, but was currently holding true to the name Black in a whole different way; the green eyed wizard was sure, for example, that, at one time, the walls must have been painted a deep blue colour but, with all the accumulated grime, looked, at the moment, black.

"We're going to be scrubbing for ages." Severus stated as footsteps echoed across the hallway; soon, a door was opened and Sirius along with Lily arrived to welcome the newcomers.

"Harry, Severus!" Lily exclaimed, walking towards them and hugging her son. Sirius was much more subdued than normal, barely looking at the two wizards, probably thinking of the conversation he had had with Severus just the day before.

"Welcome to the Blacks' ancestral mansion." The dog animagus finally said, opening his hands wide to point all around him. "It has seen better days, I assure you," Sirius stated, "but with some work, it should be brought back to peak condition soon."

"My hands are going to fall off with all the washing and cleaning that needs to be done." Harry whispered at his father as Sirius led the way to the rest of the house. They passed the main stairway, morbidly decorated with the heads of the house elves that had been judged too old to serve the various Heads of the Black family over the years. Harry shook his head in angered resignation; he couldn't even fathom how anybody could do something like that, his ire growing as he thought of Minnie -tiny and motherly Minnie- meeting her end like this. Murderers, he thought and followed his godfather away from the stirs.

"And this is… well, this is a portrait of my mother." The dog animagus stated, pointing at a curtain covered expanse on the wall. "She can be  _very_ opinionated, trust me on that." He cautioned; Harry opted to take his word for it.

The meeting with the remaining occupants of the house was somewhat less than enthusiastic. By the time it had been time to get separated into groups, Harry and Severus had been given only Lily to help them with the living room.

"Don't worry." Molly offered, looking at Severus and Harry. "The living room has a lot of work and we will probably wound up helping you later on." Harry had nodded numbly, wishing he could just pick a couch -dust covered as it may have been- and sleep the day away. With no further ado, the group of three gathered into the living room; the cleaning could be taken care of with a few spells, but the first had to sort out the clutter around the room. That would have to be done by hand.

So, as Lily and Severus maintained the modicum of casual conversation, Harry simply answered his mother's questions with a "yes" or a "no", focusing instead on Voldemort and his magical signature. During the past two months, he had tried not to recall the details of that night in the cemetery. Now however, he found he had to force himself to do just that. The Dark Lord's magic had felt powerful, of course. Powerful and dark, leaving a heavy weight upon Harry's mind and a bitter taste in his mouth while they fought. He caught a vase, looked at it for any cracks and -finding it unmarred- passed it on to his mother for the sorting. Lily was dividing the objects into two piles; the ones that Sirius would keep to decorate the house and the ones he could burn should he please. Harry strongly suspected Sirius had hoped to do just that with all the house ornaments until Lily had said otherwise.

He followed the same process with an ornate lamp, his mind intent on remembering exactly how Voldemort's magic felt; he would have to be sure, he thought, if he truly wanted to identify the Dark Lord's horcruxes for what they were. An hour ticked by slowly, yet Harry kept feeling as if he was missing something. His hands now worked mechanically as hi handed stuff to his mother for evaluation. Judging from the bored expression on his father's face, Severus wasn't faring much better. Yet another hour later and the larger piles around the room had been sorted out. Severus and Harry found themselves opening cabinets and cupboards in the search for more items.

Harry was repeating all the things that Voldemort's magic was in his head. Dark, heavy, oppressing, he thought to himself as he grabbed a few porcelain cups from a cabinet and handed them to Lily. Powerful and turbulent, Harry continued, handing an assortment of silver spoons to his mother. It was useless, he thought, reaching for the next object from in the cabinet, impossible. And then, as his hand tightened around something cold, it wasn't that impossible anymore. His mouth tasted bitter. His head swam and his heart beat faster and louder inside his chest. His mother was asking Severus' opinion about a sea of china in the background. His eyes widened as he brought his clenched palm closer to his eyes. He turned carefully away from his mother pretending he was looking at something inside the cabinet as his fingers slowly unclenched. There, in the middle of his palm, lay a silver pendant with an elaborate, snake-like "S" carved on it.

He blinked. Once then twice but the pendant was still there, reeking of Voldemort's magic. A million questions erupted in his mind but finally, one prevailed; how fast could he leave this place? If his instincts were proven right, he had work to do.

 


	72. Where There's Smoke

Harry looked at the pendant currently resting on his right palm in what could only be described as panic. He looked at the thick, silver chain that fell from between his clenched fingers all the way to his waist. He figured that the pendant would easily disappear under his shirt, should he choose to wear it, immediately wondering why on earth would he wish to wear a piece of Voldemort's soul around his neck. Suddenly he felt the urge to laugh; he had no doubt that the pendant in his palm was Voldemort's. Was it a horcrux? The thick waves of the Dark Lord's magic that pulsated from the pendant seemed to point to just that.

Harry stood petrified for a few more seconds, his mind going haywire. He held a piece of Voldemort's soul in his hands. His mother was standing a few feet behind him, creating background noise while prattling on about expensive china and how Sirius should really consider keeping more of his family's belongings. His father was there too, grunting out what could have been a positive response. His father! He had to show the pendant to his father, Harry thought. But Lily didn't seem like she would move at any moment. Maybe he could ask for some water? He thought, his mental processes feeling sluggish. He could do that.

  
"Dinner's ready!" His godfather's voice echoed from the door making Harry jump and almost drop the pendant. "Ugh, my mother's china! I thought I had gotten rid of it!"

  
"But it's quite lovely!" Lily protested. Harry reacted instinctively: he took his pocket watch out of his vest's inner pocket, glad he hadn't thought to change out of it, looked at the time and then returned the watch in its proper place along with the pendant.  
He patted his pocket, smiling shakily in relief as he found it flat. All good wizard tailors charmed the pockets they stitched onto their clothes so that they wouldn't bulge when full. It was just the standard charm that allowed a money pouch and a watch to fit seamlessly inside a small pocket with no evidence of being there and Harry requested it for all of his jackets, vests and trousers, since he had started carrying pocket watches. He had never, of course, dreamt of how his love of fob watches would serve him one day.

  
"It's  _pink_ , Lily!" Sirius complained, carrying on with his argument.

  
"The design is wonderful!" Lily persisted. "And with all of us crowding the Headquarters, you will need china!"

  
"Whatever you say, Lily." He rolled his eyes. "Now, however, it's time for dinner: you can lecture me on the merits of pink tea cups later."

  
"I hadn't realized it was time already." Harry forced himself to say, ordering his voice to stay even.

  
"Been having fun going throughout my ancestors' junk?" The dog animagus joked.

  
"Why yes, it was a titillating experience!" Harry stated, stopping the frustrated scream before it left his lips and swallowing it along with his flight instincts. "Seriously, couldn't you have assigned me to the library or something? I would have been glad to relieve you of the books you don't think you need." He added trying his damnedest to imagine what he would have said if he hadn't found the pendant. That sounded somehow like himself, he mused idly. Sirius must have thought so too, for he laughed at his godson's expense.

  
"That's why you weren't assigned to the library, kiddo. You would never get any work done!" Sirius exclaimed, ruffling his godson's hair. Harry was feeling so staggered he almost tipped over at the touch.

  
"Well, at least I wouldn't have spent the past hours looking at pink china." Harry offered numbly, thanking any deity that listened for his smart-aleck reflexes and for having been assigned to the living room. What would have happened if he had been assigned to the library instead? He would have remained ignorant while the pendant was being thrown away along with their chances to end Voldemort's life once and for all.

  
"See, Lily?" Sirius asked turning towards the redhead. "No man would want to keep pink china!" Harry took the opportunity to approach his father.

  
"We need to leave." He whispered, pretending to look at an over the top silver candelabra. The potions master stared at his son intently, automatically looking him over for any injuries. Seeing none, he turned his attention to Harry's face again. " _Now_." Harry mouthed, turning towards his godfather.

Severus regarded his son carefully. Intuitively he knew this had nothing to do with Harry being tired or his aversion to pink china, of all things. Harry, to those who didn't knew him -and what exactly did  _that_  say for his biological family, the potions master thought with a touch of bitterness- looked like the textbook bored teenager, eager to get out of the chores he had been roped into doing. The main problem was that Harry had never been the textbook teenager and would, most probably, never be. Then there was the fact that, for a moment, as his mother and godfather had looked away from him, he had looked absolutely terrified; he had to get them out of here and he had to do it fast.

It was with this thought that he followed the still unconcernedly bickering Lily and Sirius to the kitchen while Harry walked next to him, partway lost in his own world; his hands were clenching and unclenching, his stare empty. Dread filled Severus as his mind, once again, set off into thinking the worse possible scenarios. Considering the conversation they had had during the whole night and the better part of this morning, the chances were Harry had come up with something concerning Voldemort's Horcruxes.

"There you are!" James exclaimed, smiling brightly at Harry, Lily and Sirius, not even turning to look towards the potions master; exercising the patience that he had developed from ignoring a lifetime of such pettiness from the Potter patriarch, Severus focused instead on coming up with an excuse that would get both himself and Harry out of the headquarters and back to Silbreith. He was given the pretext he was searching for, quite unexpectedly, from the Weasley twins.

Or maybe, not so surprisingly. Fred and George Weasley had become, during the course of the past school year, two of his best and most enthusiastic students. Potions had been one of the OWLs they had both passed and -even though their grade had been  _Exceeds Expectations_ \- Severus had decided to admit them to Advanced Potions anyway. He had surmised, better examining the products of theirs he had confiscated, that their grades were mostly due to being bored with studying in traditional terms and not due to any lack of talent on their parts.

So, he had approached them during the first week of last term and had asked them if they were interested in taking an additional exam so that he would clear them for attending his class. Such practice was quite common with students that had passed their OWLs only slightly short of the required grade for admission to the advanced courses, even if he had never actually issued such an exam himself; students in the past had mostly felt relief not having to take his course at sixth and seven years too, finding it, he supposed, gruelling. Last term however, there had been three more students that had shown interest to do so; Fred and George had jumped at the chance eagerly -especially after Severus had voiced the reason why he believed them talented in potion brewing- and had ended up being two of the three students that had been admitted to the Advanced Potions course that way.

Since then, they had been devoted to proving him right and showcase their talent to its full extend; their scores had been the highest of their year and their essays where well-researched and written in great detail. Flitwick -whose course the twins were also attending- had even asked him outright what his secret was. The point however was, he had suddenly found himself with the two Weasleys developing what Harry had jokingly described as  _"a small case of hero worship"_. And while the potions master had suspected as much, he had repeatedly denied such accusations as the direst of falsehoods, with as pompous and high and mighty air he could manage. Now however, found himself grateful for that small hero worship the twins nursed, as it gave him that small opening he needed to plan their, for all intents and purposes, escape.

"So, have you been working on anything new, professor?" Fred Weasley asked, his eager expression mirrored openly on his twin brother's face.

"I have, yes," Severus stated, nodding his head, "but it's still barely more than an idea, so you would excuse me if I did not go into specifics. More like an experiment, truthfully and…" And there it was, he figured, pushing aside his thoughts on the array of ancient potion recipes he had discovered in Orbein and was resurrecting and "modifying" to his requirements so they could be practically applied in the coming war. A plan clear in his mind, Severus let his jaw drop marginally for a good measure. His hand froze mid-movement as he was bringing a glass of water to his lips, an eyebrow cocking in thought. He only hoped Harry wasn't too distracted to catch on.

"Harry, do you recall if we ever did get around to taking that potion off the fire?" Harry turned around to look at his father, his distracted expression melting into understanding in seconds before his characteristics were artfully arranged to the textbook image of sudden revelation.

"You mean that one potion we started last night?" Harry inquired, green eyes widening. "That one  _experimental_  and  _extremely volatile_ , even when not boiling, potion we were supposed to take off the fire this morning?" He continued, his voice rising in pitch; the conversation around the table had seized as all eyes turned on the two wizards. Hermione and Mrs. Weasley looked terrified, Fred and George appeared completely riveted and the rest vaguely disturbed. Severus felt bizarrely proud at the face of his son's acting prowess.

"That would be the one, yes." The potions master agreed, placing the glass still in his hand on the table slowly.

"Tell me you, at least," Harry said, gripping the table and looking terrified -and there was a chance he was simply revealing the panic already lurking beneath the surface, Severus thought- "revoked the order that kept the house elves from entering the dungeons."

"Did  _you_?" The potions master asked, allowing some of the panic he felt bubbling in his chest at the sight of his son's unease creep in his voice. In a flash, both father and son had risen from the table, staring frantically at each other.

"What are the chances we've actually gone and blown up Silbreith's dungeons?" Harry inquired, turning around towards the living room where the closest fireplace was without uttering another word.

"Excuse us," Severus offered politely, looking back at the startled crowd they were leaving behind, "but we should better… Look, there actually is a good chance we  _did_  blow up the dungeons…"

"Go, then!" Arthur urged him frantically, most of the assorted crowd around the table nodding in complete agreement.

"What are you even brewing?" Sirius wondered, having gone from disturbed to anxious in seconds. James looked as if he had tasted something sour but refrained from commenting. Not that Severus would have paid him any attention either way.

"Can you really blow up the entire dungeons of a castle with a single potion?" George asked in amazement as Severus nodded and turned to follow his son.

"Won't be the first time, won't be the last." The potions master muttered as he looked over his shoulder. "Messrs. Weasley and Weasley, do remind me to award you five points each come next term!" He called and rushed to the fireplace, an echoed exclamation of  _"wicked!"_  trailing after him, just in time to catch sight of his son disappearing in a flurry of green flames. Not wasting a second more, he stepped into the fireplace himself. "Silbreith," he called and he was off.

The moment he stepped foot on his home, his eyes locked into the terrified emerald gaze of his son. Harry was almost shacking, looking as pale and drawn as he had on that first week after the cemetery and Voldemort's rebirth. And while Harry was looking straight at him, Severus doubted his son was actually seeing him, lost as he appeared to be in his thoughts. His left hand was clenched over his heart, fingers digging into the fabric of his waistcoat with such force it should have been painful. And yet, Harry showed no outward signs of discomfort; only terror and shock, or a weird combination of both, coupled with disbelief.

"If that's… then he… then  _I_ …" The emerald eyed teen was muttering, speaking to himself. "Is that all then, is it  _done_?" Harry continued while Severus rushed to his side.

"Harry, look at me." The potions master implored, grasping his son's shoulders. "Harry, please," he added, his voice softening, "tell me how to help you." Harry blinked and looked at is father, seeing him for the first time since they had returned to Silbreith.

"Master Severus, Master Harry!" Minnie's voice sounded from the room's entrance. "We didn't expect you so early! Would you want something to eat, sirs?"

"Bring something for the both of us in my study, Minnie." Severus said, taking control of the situation. "Have Draco and Neville eaten yet?" He asked, guiding his son out of the room; Harry walked numbly, his hold never wavering on the fabric over, not his heart but his  _pocket_ , the potions master realised.

"They are still asleep, Master Severus." Minnie stated, looking at her younger master in concern. "Is Master Harry unwell, sir?" The teen stirred, looking at the house elf.

"I'll be," he cleared his throat as his voice sounded too hoarse, too strained, "fine. I'll be fine, Minnie, don't worry." Harry assured her, shaking his head once and tightening his hold even more. And that was definitely painful, Severus thought, looking at the whitened knuckles on his son's hand.

"Wake Neville and Draco up, Minnie," Severus said, knowing that whatever had happened, Harry could use the support from the two boys, "and send them to my study. And bring some food for them too." The house elf nodded, glanced at her younger master worriedly once again and disappeared with a soft popping sound.

Without saying anything else, Severus guided his son through Silbreith's corridors to his study and sat him down on an armchair as he took his place across him. He looked at him expectantly but, after comforting Minnie, Harry had seemingly returned to his previous catatonic state. A few minutes later the house elf appeared with a tray filled with sandwiches, followed by Alfie who carried a pitcher of water, a pitcher of pumpkin juice and some glasses; both elves left the room silently, instinctively understanding their Masters wanted to be alone. The door to the room burst open only a few silent seconds later.

"Are you back already?" Neville asked, storming in the room. "Minnie sounded worried…" He trailed off, his gaze landing on his brother who had barely noticed his arrival.

"Harry?" Draco called, stepping inside the room and coming to stand next to the brown eyed teen, both still in their sleeping clothes. "What happened?" He turned to look at Severus who simply returned his concerned gaze, conveying he was as much in the dark as they were. Instead of answering however, Harry simply unclenched the fingers of his left hand and slowly moved them to his waistcoat's inner pocket. Then he pulled them back out, something long and silver twined between his fingers.

"A chain?" Draco asked.

"A pendant." Neville observed as said pendant landed on Harry's lap, the heavy chain still clasped in his fingers.

"Did you find that at the Headquarters?" The potions master asked, the dread he had felt before spreading like a wildfire in his chest. How could an old piece of jewellery turn his son into something marginally livelier than the inferi?

"Yes." Harry finally answered, clearing his throat; his eyes zeroed on the pendant as he pushed it forward and let it dangle in front of him, suspended from his fingers. "And it's not a pendant. At least, not anymore."

"What do you mean, Harry?" Neville asked, his own gaze glued on the

"Horcrux." Harry stated simply, twisting his fingers so that the pendant rotated slowly, reflecting the summer sunlight flitting through the windows. "It's a Horcrux; Voldemort's Horcrux, to be exact." Three sets of eyes widened simultaneously, looking at the pendant in disbelief. Harry, on his part, let his own gaze trail over the heavy pendant, taking in its weight, the ornately carved "S" and how cold it felt.

"Are you certain, Harry?" Severus finally asked, being the first to snap out of the spell Harry's words -and he dearly hoped it had been Harry's words and, Merlin help them,  _not the Horcrux_ \- had cast upon them.

"Quite." Harry offered laconically, grasping the pendant with his right hand. Voldemort's magic, strong and bitter and tainted, flowed from the pendant and trough his fingers, long tendrils trying to grasp anything in their proximity.

"How did you find that?" Neville muttered before seating himself on the corner of Severus' desk, his legs no longer holding him. Draco, who had gripped the other side of the desk for stability wasn't faring much better, his normally pale skin having turned an ashen grey.

"It was in one of Sirius' cupboards. Can you believe it?" Harry asked, his voice trembling. "I just happened upon a Horcrux. And I can't help thinking, what if we hadn't found that book in Orbein? What if Dad and I had been given a different room to clean? Would anyone have known that...  _Merlin_!" He exclaimed, letting the pendant slip from his hand, holding it once more only from its chain. He leaned forward, elbow on his knees and head bowed low, his hands clenching into fists as he brought them to rest on his forehead. And the Horcrux remained there, lodged between his fingers, deceptively harmless.

"In a  _cupboard_?" Neville exclaimed, looking at the pendant as if he couldn't fathom its existence.

"I can't believe you just... and it just... but are you  _certain_?" Draco asked and Harry felt his anger flare for a second before he realised what had happened; his anger was accompanied with a simultaneous influx of the magic coming off the pendant, affecting him; and if that didn't make it a Horcrux, Harry didn't know what did.

"I'm certain, Draco." He answered, stomping down on his anger; even if the feeling was not his own, it was real and it was there. Harry refused to let the Horcrux affect him that easily; it was clear to see how an eleven year old would have fallen to the thrall of a Horcrux. The feelings emanating from the pendant were potent and ensnaring and Harry felt the urge to comply and throw it away at the same time.

"Is it affecting you?" Severus asked his son, ever-vigilant; he had observed the clenching hands and the angry veins on his son's neck. From there, it didn't take long to put the pieces together.

"It's trying." Harry admitted.

"So," Neville asked, looking at the pendant with rage all of his own, "how do we destroy it?"

"First, I think," Harry said, rising up and walking towards the desk, placing the pendant there, his family positioning themselves around him, "we need to know what this pendant is, exactly."

"It's a Horcrux." Draco said, his expression clearly showing his disgust. "What more is there to know?"

"You think there might be more, don't you?" The potions master asked; the determined and slightly pained expression on Harry's face was all the answer he needed.

"More what?" Neville wondered, eyes bulging in a way that would have been comical in any other situation. "More Horcruxes?"

"We already found two." Draco muttered, his disgust edging towards nausea.

"And none of them were where you'd expect them to be." Harry supplied. "One," he counted, "was freely given to your father, Draco, and left to his discretion while the other," he pointed at the pendant, "was found in the Headquarters of the opposing side." He shook his head in confusion. "Voldemort seems to have spread the pieces of his soul around quite liberally, wouldn't you agree? Nothing makes sense!"

"And how did it end up at Sirius' anyway?" Neville wondered.

"Technically," Severus said, "it wasn't at Sirius' home where you found the pendant, Harry. Sirius lives at an apartment in Diagon Alley; you found it in the Headquarters and the Headquarters are…" The words seemed to stick in his throat as he spoke, the Fidelius charm holding strong.

"What are they?" Draco asked.

"Their location is protected by the Fidelius," Harry explained, as Severus cleared his throat, annoyed that his thinking process had been interrupted, "and as such all I can say, I think, is that it's not actually Sirius' home." That much the Fidelius apparently allowed, as unhelpful as it was.

"Jolly good  _that_  does us!" Neville muttered. "Okay, let's try it this way; how did Sirius -as a person and forget the house that might not be his house- come to have one of Voldemort's Horcruxes in his possession?"

"We're supposing he doesn't know he had the Horcrux in his possession, I take it?" Draco inquired.

"Yes." Severus agreed. "He didn't as much as glance our way when Lily appointed us to the living room; all he cared about was not keeping that dreadful pink china. If he had it his way, all the contents of the house would have been burned." Severus shrugged. "Also, Sirius is, well, Sirius. I can't say we see eye to eye, but he is firmly on the side of the light; I see absolutely no reason to question his loyalty."

"I bet Sirius would love to hear you say that." Harry offered, his attention swiftly returning to the pendant. "However, if Sirius knew of the pendant and what it is he would have willingly surrendered it to Dumbledore in a heartbeat."

"Then how did it end up in his possession?" Draco posed the burning question once more.

"It might not have ended up in his possession exactly." The potions master offered; he hadn't taken his eyes off the pendant, trying to pin point why it looked so familiar.

"But I found it at…"

"I know." Severus stated, interrupting his son. "As I said, Sirius is firmly on our side but his brother, Regulus, wasn't."

"I didn't know Sirius even has a brother." Neville said, looking at Draco in confusion.

"I did." Harry admitted. "Though Sirius almost never talks of him."

"He was a Death Eater, wasn't he?" Draco muttered, looking at the floor. "I think my father once mentioned his name."

"He was." Severus agreed. "And he disappeared almost sixteen years ago; though Voldemort didn't order his death, there was a rumour going around that he soon would. Regulus had joined the Death Eaters very young," the potions master explained, responding to the unasked questions of the teenagers in the room, "and he had soon started questioning Voldemort's ways. Still, nobody leaves the Death Eaters that easily; when he disappeared, everybody assumed that he had run away. Yet Voldmert never searched for him and he's merciless with deserters."

"So he died." Harry concluded. Severus nodded in agreement.

"He did, though through no order of the Dark Lord or our side." The potions master offered.

"Do you reckon he might have…"

"Taken his own life?" Severus asked, continuing on Neville's train of thought. "He wasn't, I believe, the type."

"Could he have somehow come into possession of the Horcrux?" Draco asked. "Would the Dark Lord have given it to him?"

"No." Severus stated with certainty. "Regulus was far too young and untrustworthy. He had only made it to the Inner Circle because he was one of the two last male Black Heirs and his elder brother was in the opposite side of the war. If Sirius died first, his place as the Head of the House of Black would go to his younger brother, and Voldemort was planning on that."

"Could he have found out about the Horcruxes and decided to take matters into his own hands?" Harry asked.

"He was quite impulsive and very young." The potions master stated. "But how could he have found out? Voldemort hadn't told Lucius that the diary was a Horcrux, so he couldn't have said anything to Regulus. And though the Dark Lord often liked to say that he had achieved immortality, he never went into specifics. I once thought it was just a megalomaniac madman speaking; then again, I didn't know what I do now and I, too, was very young."

"Let's try this again." Draco said, breathing in deeply before continuing. "Regulus joins the Death Eaters very young. Soon, he becomes disillusioned and wants out, correct?"

"Quite." Severus agreed motioning Draco to carry on with a wave of his hand.

"There was no chance Voldemort gave him a Horcrux to keep." Draco said; Severus nodded in agreement. "But if he knew there was at least one Horcrux, would he have taken measures to destroy it when he decided to leave the Death Eaters?"

"We must assume that he would and that he did." Harry offered. "He is the only link between Voldemort and Sirius, the only one that had access both into the comings and goings of Voldemort's Inner Circle and access to… where I found the pendant." The green eyed wizard offered, bypassing the Fidelius charm as he could.

"If he had found out about a Horcrux, what would he have done? I suppose he wouldn't just barge in and steal it without Voldemort reacting somehow." Neville observed. "And you said that Voldemort didn't search for him at all."

"He did not," Severus agreed, "and I can only assume that he would have killed Regulus personally if he had even as much as thought to attempt something of the sort. And Voldemort always made certain all his followers knew when he disciplined his ranks. If he had killed Regulus he would have said so."

"So, how did Regulus find out about the pendant and how did he end up getting it?" Neville asked.

"Maybe Voldemort asked him to hide it for him?" Harry offered. "Without telling him what it was, of course."

"Like, in his vault, or something?" Draco asked.

"Then he would have killed him straight afterwards." Severus assured him. "Though a Gringotts vault would be quite the place to hide a pendant like this; an old piece of jewellery among all the Black family heirlooms would have gone completely unnoticed."

"True, on both accounts." Harry agreed. "Honestly though, if he had given his Horcrux to a follower to keep in his vault, would he have chosen Regulus?"

"No, he would not have." Severus stated, his eyes taking in the pendant once more; the chain was silver and so where the designs on the locket, but the main part of the pendant was solid gold; and he could swear he had seen it before somewhere. But where? Not during his time as a Death Eater, he was sure, and that only made the notion that much more far fetched. If he hadn't seen Voldemort's Horcrux in Voldemort's presence, then where had he seen it? "And let's not forget that Sirius is the Head of the Black family; if he could prove his brother a Death Eater, he would easily take control of his personal vaults and thus, the hiding place of Voldemort's Horcruxes."

"So, let's say that, somehow, Regulus found out about the Horcruxes." Harry theorised. "Why didn't he destroy the one he had; we're still going with the theory that he wanted to make as much damage as possible before he got caught, correct?"

"Yes." Severus agreed. "But then again, he might have never found out that what he had was a Horcrux; that would explain why it's still intact."

"Then he just swiped an object he thought valuable to Voldemort for no reason?" Harry asked. "And, though before today I would rule it out from the realm of possibilities, he might have even stumbled onto it himself and kept it. Outlandish, I know, but then again, didn't I do the same?"

"My head hurts." Neville stated, hands fisting on his hair. "So he might have known he had a Horcrux and then opted not to destroy it or he might have not known he had one and simply decided to steal from the Dark Lord for no apparent reason but his suicidal tendencies, which he, apparently, didn't have."

"He might have known he had a Horcrux in his hands but died before managing to actually do anything about it?" Draco offered, earning the attention of the three other wizards in the room.

"That's… actually quite possible." Severus stated. "Five points to Slytherin." He added automatically, eliciting the first real smile from his son since he found the pendant.

"Wait a moment." Harry objected, his smile dying a quick death. "If Regulus died while getting the Horcrux -and assuming Voldemort had hidden it elsewhere, he must have guarded it with something better than a locked cupboard- then how did the Horcrux make it back to where I found it? Nobody ever found Regulus, or his body in any case. And they would have eventually found him  _there_."

"An accomplice then?" Draco asked.

"Possible." Harry admitted. "It couldn't have been Sirius; he would have told Prongs, at least, or Dumbledore."

"Some other Death Eater then?" Neville asked.

"No one would have helped." Severus stated. "Well,  _I_  would have, but I was in far too deep for him to even consider me as a viable option." The potions master mulled on that thought for a bit longer. "His parents were dead by the time he disappeared and, even if they were alive, he wouldn't have gotten them involved. And Death Eaters have no friends outside the Death Eaters, as a general rule. Plus, Regulus had fallen in dismay months before he died. If someone helped him, I can't imagine who it was."

"Not that it matters at the moment." Harry offered. "Even if we knew how Regulus found out about the pendant, we wouldn't be able to ask him. And even if we did track down the accomplice -if there is one- there is a good chance they wouldn't be able to help; remember they didn't destroy the Horcrux. It's possible that, even if Regulus knew, he wouldn't have told them what it is they stole."

"So, we've got nothing." Neville concluded. "Brilliant."

"We've got the Horcrux." Harry observed. "And back to what I was saying earlier, we need to know what the pendant actually is."

"That's where you lost me the first time too." Neville admitted.

"I mean, the first Horcrux we know of was Voldemort's diary. He made it when he was sixteen, so we can hazard a guess and say that it was his first one, At least, I hope it was." Harry stated, looking at the pendant thoughtfully; he found it was easier to ignore it if he wasn't actually touching it. The pull was still there but it was manageable. "So, what is the significance of this pendant? The diary was the means Voldemort aimed to use to complete what he perceived as Slytherin's ultimate goal, also known as killing off all the Muggleborn students of Hogwarts. I don't know how he quite came up with the idea but the point remains; the diary was of a personal value to him. But what of this pendant?"

"It's old." Draco stated. "Ancient even; a heirloom?"

"Voldemort was an orphan, raised in a Muggle orphanage. Unless he came to an inheritance after he graduated Hogwarts, I don't see how he could have come into the possession of such an object." Harry offered.

"A heirloom!" Severus suddenly explained, finally recalling where he had seen the pendant before, or rather, its likeness. "Obviously." And like that he walked towards the books he kept on the selves behind his desk, pulling out a large tome and flipping through the pages, ignoring the remainder of the books that tumbled from their place and down of the floor at his hasty movements.

"You know where Voldemort got the pendant?" Harry asked, looking hopeful.

"Where he got it?" Severus asked back. "No idea. What it is and why he would make that specific pendant into a Horcux? I can tell you that." He flipped the book around and pointed the book towards the three teenagers. And there, on the left page, of where Severus had opened the book, was a detailed drawing of the pendant Voldemort had turned into his Horcrux.

"Salazar Slytherin's Locket." Harry read out loud, numbly, looking at the drawing as he did a mental comparison to the actual pendant, well, locket. It was blatantly obvious that whoever had created the drawing of the locket had either seen it first hand or had copied the design of somebody who had; every line was the same, down to the minutest detail.

"Slytherin's Locket?" Draco murmured.

"That would explain why Voldemort would want the pendant." Neville said, alternating between staring at the page and the actual locket.

"So he inherited then?" Harry asked, looking at his father expectantly. "As the Heir of Slytherin?" And haven't I seen this book somewhere before, Harry wondered.

"Not quite." Severus explained. "I can't believe I've forgotten of this book. I found it on the very first day we moved in Silbreith. Remember Harry? When you first walked into the library and I was looking up on books concerning emblems? The book I said was for personal research?" Harry thought back at that day, eight years ago, when he had walked through the double doors of Silbreith's library for the first time. He had been pretending to be a great mage of the ancient days as he explored the castle, that much he could recall. He could easily remember seeing his father too, since it was the first time Severus had worn something else than black in his presence; he had thought that his father finally looked his young age, with his white shirt and green vest and the healthy glow of his complexion. The potions master had descended the stairs to greet him and in his hands he held two leather bound books. A larger one that included information on emblems and the incantation that had rid his father of his Dark Mark and the second one, the smaller one, that Harry could vaguely recall but had never read. The book he was now looking at.

"Either life is full of coincidences or we're the butt of some bizarre cosmic joke." The green eyed wizard finally stated, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Severus nodded in complete agreement before turning to the two remaining teenagers in the room, swiftly explaining how he came by that book.

"I was researching on emblems," the potions master said, "trying to unearth more information and finding out what they entailed for their bearers, when I stumbled onto this book." He turned it around so that they could see the title;  _"Emblems, Insignia and Rites of Passage"_. "It turned out that it had nothing to do with emblems and, even though its use eventually was for a completely unrelated subject, I kept it and read it even after that. What the writer describes as emblems would be more accurately worded as "emblematic artefacts", if you ask me." Severus offered; he was speaking very fast, his expression as animated as when he reached some breakthrough with his potions related researches. "He goes on to describe artefacts and heirlooms of great wizarding Houses of the world. From he sceptre of Neheb and Cassandra's crown, to Morgana's mirror and artefacts left behind by the founders of Hogwarts." He paused momentarily to take a calming breath. "Godric Gryffindor's sword, Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem, Helga Hufflepuff's Cup and Salazar Slytherin's locket. And then it went on listing their provenances..."

"Their what?" Neville asked, shaking his head once.

"Provenance is the chronology of the ownership, custody or location of a historical object." Draco answered automatically. "My mother collects antiques." He added as an explanation.

"Well go on!" Harry urged his father, running his fingers through his raven tresses frantically, only barely restraining himself from pulling at his own hair.

"Draco is right." The potions master stated, pointing at random pages of the book. "The sword of Gryffindor, for example was left to the school after his death and his whereabouts remained unknown until recently. Slytherin's pendant however was passed down to his descendants, from one generation to the next, long after they lost the name Slytherin." He pointed towards a list of names and the assorted dates during which each family had the pendant in their possession. "And at the beginning of the eighteenth century, with the marriage of one Alcmene DuPont and a Tormand Gaunt, Slytherin's locket passed on to the Gaunt family, where it remained still at the time of this book's publication." Severus was completely out of breath by that point but, even though he wasn't smiling, his eye lit with triumph.

"So Voldemort's selections of vessels for his Horcruxes so far have been his diary and a Slytherin heirloom." Harry muttered. "Assuming this is, of course, the actual pendant of Slytherin."

"You think it might be a knock off?" Neville wondered.

"Not really." Harry admitted. "I do not believe that Voldemort would ever place a piece of his soul in a copy of the original locket."

"He did use a relatively nondescript diary for his first Horcrux." Draco observed.

"But it was the diary he kept the very year he opened the Chamber of Secrets for the first time." Severus observed, considering their latest revelations carefully. "It was, in a way, important to him. It contained his memories of the time he discovered absolute proof that he was indeed the Heir of Slytherin."

"And we all know the lengths he has taken to get rid of what he perceives as a stigma his Muggle father has left on him." Harry stated, thinking of the monstrous form Voldemort had adopted in favor of his original body.

"So, his heritage is important to him." Neville pointed out. "What are we saying then? If there are other Horcruxes, they might be in items belonging to Slytherin or tying him to the Slytherin name?"

"Or his magical heritage in general." Harry offered. "I don't know his mother's last name," he admitted, his mind travelling back to that night in the cemetery, "but his father's full name was Thomas Riddle." He shook his head once more. "Maybe his mother was a Gaunt? Where does that family even live?"

"I have never heard of them" Draco stated. "Which is somewhat odd, if you consider it."

"Neither have I." Severus offered. "His mother  _could_  have been a Gaunt, for all we know."

"So, let's try this one more time; when this book was written," Harry stated, "the locket was in the possession of the Gaunts, who appeared to be the last remaining family directly from Slytherin's line."  
"According to this book, at least." Severus offered, flipping the pages searching for the publishing house. "And I'm inclined to trust it." He pointed at the impressive stamp on the second page. "Gringotts publications; it's one of those books that the bank sends to certain members of its clientele -and by that I mean pureblood, wealthy families- once every ten years or so, to reassure them that they're being treated better than the rest."  
"So that's why they send them?" Draco asked, rolling his eyes. "Three years back we got a book about, what it was again? Some thing or another about the greatest wizard benefactors in history?"  
"I'm gonna hand it to them though." Neville offered, smirking ruefully. "Quite underhanded them goblins are, trying to flatter their most precious clients like that."  
"Expert bootlickers." Draco agreed, running his fingers through his already tussled hair. "Of course it's obviously working, so I can't fault them."  
"Getting off subject, people!" Harry exclaimed, almost tasting the swiftly approaching migraine.  
"I don't even know  _how_  to stay on subject." Neville admitted, a nervous giggle escaping his lips. He kept sneaking glances to the Horcrux, as if he was making certain the pendant wouldn't jump off the desk on its own and make a run for it.

"We're getting nowhere!" Harry offered, letting out a frustrated growl, pacing back and forth as he spoke. "There might be more Horcruxes or there might not be. The only one that truly knows at this point, is Voldemort and not only is he not available for comments, he's… not prone to… sharing." Harry's voice had trailed off as he spoke the last few words, eyes falling on the locket once more. That last comment of his, well, it wasn't exactly true now, was it? Surely thoughts like this one clearly meant he was slowly but steadily losing his grip on sanity. But Voldemort always felt the need to brag. Maybe if he was to believe… now that the piece of his soul in the locket hadn't had the chance to learn in whose hands it had fallen to yet.

"I know that look, Harry!" Severus warned his son, looking at his expressions shift; the slight widening of the eyes, the raised eyebrows. All the motions of a -probably dangerous and utterly insane- plan coming to life.

"You're not seriously considering hunting down Voldemort and demanding he tells you how many Horcruxes he has created, do you?" Draco asked, somewhat disturbed, having read the signs just as clearly as the potions master had.

"I don't think he's planning on searching for Voldemort." Neville observed, his eyes following Harry's emerald gaze towards the pendant.

"What are you talking about?" Draco inquired. "Is it a Gryffindor thing or…" He turned to look at the locket himself, his own eyes widening in realisation. "No! Absolutely not!" He looked at the pendant contemplatively. "Is it even possible?"

"Harry, do you truly think it wise…"

"No, Dad, I don't." Harry assured his father. "But I don't see any other solution either. We can talk about the million possibilities forever and come up with nothing but theories," he said, looking at the potions master, "or I can give the piece of Voldemort's soul in the locket a shot."

"Harry, the Dark Lord won't just give you the information you seek." Severus cautioned him. "Then again," the potions master amended his first impression of his son's plan, "you don't expect him to, do you?"

"He's not the sharing type." Harry explained. "But he's the bragging type. And I have had experience goading him."

"You're going to question a Horcrux for information on other Horcruxes?" Draco asked, looking from Harry to the locket and back. "That's…"

"Either completely insane or the mark of true genius." Neville completed his brother's sentence as the blond Slytherin searched for the proper words to express his thoughts on the matter.

"Yes," Draco agreed pointing at Neville and nodding affirmative. "That, exactly."

"Look, I know how crazy it sounds, believe me! And it's a long shot, yes." Harry admitted, spreading his hands open at his sides. "But what other choice do we have?"

"Before we even consider that," Severus cautioned, "we should move the pendant somewhere away from here, in the open. I propose the forest by the Quidditch grounds." Harry nodded in agreement. "And most importantly," the potions master continued, "we should decide on how we'll destroy the Horcrux when the time comes."

"Last time I used Gryffindor's sword," Harry said, "after I had stabbed the basilisk. Goblin steel is enchanted to absorb the qualities of anything that would make it stronger, so I'm guessing basilisk venom is one way to do it."

"And according to whomever wrote that book we found at Orbein, fiendfyre." Severus added. "From what I understand, once a piece of a soul enters a Horcrux, it becomes irrevocably connected with that object. Should the object be destroyed, so would the soul it contains."

"So, fiendfyre?" Neville asked, a smirk filled with malicious intent on his lips.

"I'd say it's our best option. Stealing Gryffindor's sword would be inadvisable at this time, and I'm not so comfortable to come close enough to stub it with a basilisk tooth." Harry agreed. He was already formulating his next moves, the vague outline of a plan forming in his mind.

"Well, shall we?" Draco asked, moving for the pendant.

"Actually no." Harry stated, jumping up to get between his brother and the locket.

"What? Why?" The blond asked, confusion shining clear on his expression.

"I'll explain everything, but first…" Harry trailed off and rummaged around the room until he found what he was looking for. With a triumphant "aha!" he carried one of the small, wooden chests Severus kept around to store his most volatile potions to the desk.

"What are you doing?" Neville asked as he watched his youngest brother lifting the locket swiftly and chucking it inside the box, closing the lid.

"That was smart." Severus conceded, breathing just a little easier now that the pendant was out of sight.

"While I was holding the Horcrux," Harry explained, "Voldemort's soul inside it tried to reach for me. And even though it wasn't strong enough to even attempt to go through my Occlumency shields, it did affect my emotions. I'd rather we all kept clear from any fragmented soul pieces of megalomaniac Dark Lords with possession tendencies if we can."

"I'll second that!" Neville exclaimed, looking at the box that now held Voldemort's Horcrux with renewed hatred.

"So, what were you thinking we should do?" Draco asked.

"As Dad said, I can't simply interrogate the Horcrux." Severus nodded in agreement. "What hope for is that, if I anger it, -him, whatever- enough, I will manage to get an estimate of the grand total of the Horcruxes Voldemort has created."

"You think you can do that? Anger him that much, I mean." Neville clarified, considering their options carefully.

"It seems that's all I do every time we cross paths." Harry stated ruefully. "I have the scars to prove it too. Not that he's very hard to anger."

"But will the Horcrux even know anything?" Draco asked. "It's just a piece of the Dark Lord's soul. What if he hadn't decided how many Horcruxes he would make in the end?"

"It can't have been created before the diary, I believe, for two reasons." The raven haired wizard voiced his thoughts, emerald eyes hardened. "One, Riddle was still in school when the diary was created and he used Moaning Myrtle's death to make it; there were no more deaths of students or staff while he stayed or the school would have been closed down for certain. And even though he could have, possibly, committed murder over the summer, I find it unlikely he did so before his sixth year. Not because I think he retained some semblance of innocence before that, but because a strange death with him involved would have given Dumbledore just the leverage he needed to start an investigation after the Chamber of Secrets was opened. And Dumbledore, although he  _did_  suspect Riddle, did nothing of the sort. Also, Riddle himself admitted that killing Myrtle was a spur of the moment decision; I think that she might have been his first murder after all."

"And what the second reason why?" Severus asked, nodding at the logic in Harry's words.

"The first thing Voldemort did when he found out he could the Heir of Slytherin was opening the Chamber to make sure, to see if he could truly control Slytherin's monster." Harry explained. "If he had Slytherin's locket beforehand, he wouldn't have to search for the Chamber in order to have evidence of his parentage; it's an heirloom, one I believe he came into after opening the Chamber and knew what to look for." He shrugged and sighed. "It's all theories of course, but it's all I've got."

"Still, it could be a Horcrux he made when he was in his twenties, decades before the war even began." Neville pointed out, rubbing his temples in frustration.

"The diary Horcrux knew about the name Lord Voldemort and what he was planning to do when he grew up." Harry countered. "And since he had already started creating Horcruxes at sixteen, I hope we'll be lucky and he had planned ahead for that too."

"I'm guessing you're planning something to even the odds a little." The potions master observed. "You'll need to gather as much information as possible before you even consider talking to that Horcrux."

"My thoughts exactly." Harry agreed. "I need to find as much information on the Gaunts as possible; if they were the ones in possession of the locket -and hypothesising it wasn't stolen from them- they must be blood relations of Voldemort."

"Yet, I have heard nothing of them." Draco repeated, trying his hardest to recall if he had heard the name Gaunt mentioned even in passing. "They either died out centuries ago, or did something horrible in the eyes of the aristocracy and were treated as pariahs ever since." Neville looked on contemplatively before nodding once.

"My grandmother hasn't mentioned them either and she can gossip with the best of them." He chuckled mirthlessly. "You know, if it was something they did, then it must have been really bad."

"I'm assuming it wasn't having given birth to Voldemort?" Harry interjected, drawing some light laughter from his family. His own smile was genuine; he had no idea what he would have done without his father or his brothers to turn to. Sometimes, he wondered if his path would have been similar to Voldemort's. He shook his head once decisively; there was nothing to be achieved going down that road.

"And I suppose," the potions master said, sobering up swiftly, "that you would want more information on the pendant too. Chances are, Voldemort inherited it but of it was stolen -or sold- somewhere down the line, he must have gotten his hands it somehow."

"Which also means he might have tracked it down himself. Possible after he graduated." Harry agreed folding his arms in front of his chest and nodding in agreement.

"Come to think of it, what did Voldemort even do after he graduated Hogwarts?" Neville pondered, filling a glass with water and ignoring the still untouched sandwiches on the tray. "The war started during the early sixties and he graduated twenty years before that." Absolute silence followed his declaration causing the brown eyed Gryffindor to look around the room in concern. "What did I say?"

"Something exceptionally bright!" Harry stated, moving closer to throw an arm over his brother's shoulders.

"Well don't look so surprised!" Neville deadpanned, assuming an exaggerated insulted look. "I've been trying to tell you that I'm actually a genius for years now!"

"You have your moments." Draco offered, slapping him around the head playfully.  
"I'll award some points for that too on the fist of September." Severus offered, shaking his head in complete befuddlement. "And you are right to wonder about that, of course. What did Voldemort do after he left Hogwarts?" Why have I not asked that question myself after I found out Voldemort's birth name, the potions master wondered. For, as much as he had researched Voldemort, he had no idea what Tom Riddle had done after he left school and before he reappeared as the Dark Lord.

"And how are we even going to find out?" Draco inquired.

"First things first." Harry stated, trying to gather his scattered thoughts. "We keep the locket here and don't go near it until we're better prepared. And to do that I'm going to contact Miss Skeeter; I think it's time we found some use for her."

"And what will you have her looking into?" Severus asked, smirking slightly.

"The Gaunts." Harry said. "I want to know everything there is about them; I'm assuming Voldemort did the same, if he found out there was a relation between them. May I borrow some parchment and a quill?" He asked his father who replied by simply cocking an eyebrow as if to say; "Why are you even asking?"

"Writing to Skeeter?" Neville asked looking over Draco's shoulder who, in turn, was looking over Harry's shoulder, trying to peer at the letter.

"Yes." Harry answered as he reread the short missive he was going to send the reporter.

_Miss Skeeter,_

_In accordance to the contract existing between us since the twentieth of last June, I request you to meet me at the Leaky Cauldron, tomorrow at nine in the morning. Please, come alone. If you decide to bring company, or alert somebody of our meeting, I will know and will not be held accountable for my reaction. Sincerely yours,_

_H._

"Short and to the point." Neville stated.

"Are you sure it won't fall in the wrong hands?" Draco asked, channelling all the paranoia fake Moody had instilled in his students during the last term. Harry, who was following a similar trail of thought, smirked and pulled out his wand.

"Are you going to enchant the parchment?" Neville asked, his eyes glinting with curiosity; that smirk on his brother's face and the twirling of his wand always guaranteed some new, interesting morsel of magical theory and application was going to be showcased. Severus, who had read the same signs, moved closer to the three teens, momentarily ceasing planning his own search; his plan involved more goblins than it did reporters and still needed some refining, but was promising, he had to admit.

"Enchanting the parchment of a letter, while useful, requires the recipient to know how to lift the specific charm used to read what's written on it." Harry explained, cutting a few inches off the bottom of the parchment with a swift cutting hex, making its shape into a perfect square. "What I'm about to do," he said, folding the parchment carefully, bringing the four corners to the centre of the parchment, "is a tad more complicated than that," he repeated the folding process once more, the resulting square no larger than four by four inches, easily fitting in his palm, "and much more effective, I think."

He then placed the index finger of his left hand where the corners connected, so they could stay put, and summoned reached for the quill he had written the letter with. In a few swift, practiced movements, the shape of a sigil became clear on the parchment; a large circle surrounding all four corners and a smaller, concentric one inside it. He added a few runes in the empty space between the two circles and an intricate dodecagram inside the smaller one. A few more runes were placed strategically between the points of the star before Harry let go of the parchment, a satisfied smile on his face.

"Eh… Harry?" Neville asked, looking at the sigil, intrigued. "What exactly is that?"

"Sigils are separated into various categories." Harry explained, animated, despite the severity of the situation. "One of those categories is composed of protection sigils; a sub-category of those are called seals. Seals are mostly known for their application on tombs, especially in ancient Egypt. Some are so well made, curse breakers still have to deal with them even after millennia have passed since they've been cast. This one," he said summoning the sealing wax from a drawer, "might not be as strong but it's far more practical." He cocked his head to the left a bit before nodding to himself. "Minnie!"

"Yes, master Harry?" The elf asked, appearing inside the room with a soft pop, causing Draco -who was standing a few inches from where she appeared- to jump back in shock and mutter a quick curse under his breath.

"I can feel a heart attack approaching." The blond Slytherin stated, a hand over his heart and a long suffering expression on his face. Neville sent him a commiserating look; neither of them needed to talk to get the message across. When whatever plan they had was set in motion and all they could do was wait, the shock induced adrenalin burst they were operating on would dissipate, leaving behind a puff of hot air and crippling panic. It had better be a good plan, Neville hoped.

"Can you go to my bedroom and bring me the ivory box from the upper left drawer of my nightstand?" He asked and Minnie nodded before disappearing.

"And what does this specific seal do exactly?" Severus asked, translating the runes on the sigil. Minnie chose that moment to reappear, a small ivory box in her hands.

"Thank you, Minnie." Harry offered with a small smile and the elf vacated the room once more, sending one exasperated look at the untouched sandwiches on the tray. Harry idly entertained the thought of eating one -if only to spare himself from Minnie's death glares- before answering his father's question. "This seal is more… target-specific, I suppose." The green eyed wizard explained, opening the box and pulling out a signet ring. Severus immediately identified it as the coat of arms Harry had created for himself. It was no secret between them that Harry wanted to separate himself from the rest of the Potter family, make a name of his own. So, in accordance with the centuries' old tradition of a younger son breaking ties with his patrimonial family to become the Head of a family of his own, he had to follow five steps.

One, he had to wait until he became and adult; that part was already covered with his emancipation. Two, he had to ensure financial stability, something he had also covered. Three, he needed a family house; Orbein more than took care of that. Four, as all traditional wizarding families -and that was the only area his son had decided to follow each and every rule, wanting the break to be as clean as possible- he needed a coat of arms. The fifth and final step, would be to officially announce to his Head of family that he no longer wished to be considered part of the family line, renouncing any claim to his inheritance. That was still to happen, for obvious reasons, even if it was a technicality; when the time was right, Harry would take that final step too.

The coat of arms though? Apparently, the potions master thought with a smile, his son had been working on it for years. The design was simple, a shield topped with an embattled line and designed in a saltire in blue and gold -the original colours of the Osteler family, ones that Harry felt like he should keep since he now owned Orbein- with the runes for magic and fate on each side. Two wolves supported each side of the shield and beneath it the motto Harry had chosen;  _Fato Est Optionem_. Nothing seemed more appropriate, Severus believed, than that;  _fate is a choice_. And now there it was, on a signet ring in his son's hands.

"What this seal will do," Harry continued with his explanation, ignorant of his father's inner ponderings, "is ascertain nobody else will read the letter other than the person the one who designed the seal, in this case yours truly," he poured the molten wax with practiced ease on the centre of the seal, using his signet ring before it solidified, "has designated." He touched the seal with the tip of his wand, murmuring an incantation and the name of; Rita Jane Skeeter. The sigil flashed golden for a second before it turned back to black. "Nobody else will be able to break this seal. And the best part; once Skeeter reads the letter…"

"The seal will destroy it." Severus finished his sentence, smirking; now the runes he had translated actually made sense. Especially the one translating as  _fire that consumes_.

"Wicked!" Neville and Draco echoed, chuckling in sync.

"You've been spending too much time together." Harry stated, smiling fondly.

"So, apart from the meeting with Skeeter, what are we planning to do?" Draco asked, looking at the three other wizards in the room.

"I was thinking a visit to Gringotts' archives might be in order." The potions master said. "Slytherin's locket is goblin made and goblins follow the artefacts they believe belong to their race closely; usually, when a family dies off while in possession of a goblin-made object, the bank reclaims it, claiming cultural heritage."

"I didn't know that." Neville admitted. "You'd think with all the stuff Binns' been teaching us about goblins he'd have mentioned that."

"No, cause that's actually practical information." Draco offered. "Binns never imparts that. Well, except that one time he told us of the Chamber of Secrets."

"Point to the blond." Harry stated, pointing at Draco. "You won't have a problem visiting the archives? Do you think the goblins might have questions regarding your research?"

"The archive is open for the public." Severus said. "And if I find myself in need for additional information, well, I may have to come up with a convincing story regarding  _why_  exactly I'm looking for details regarding the locket -they will try to question me if asked for help directly- but other than that, I believe I will be fine." He shrugged. "As I said, goblins like to keep track of such objects and the like reminding wizards that said objects rightfully belong to the goblin nation even more."

"I never expected goblin pride would come in handy some day." Harry stated, earning three nods of complete agreement.

"In any case, if the locket was stolen, they will know." The potions master concluded.

"Well, at least it's a start." Harry offered, rubbing his face tiredly, feeling worn, the stress from the last twenty four hours was finally catching up with him.

"What about Nev's suggestion?" Draco asked. "Finding out what Voldemort did after he graduated?"

"That will prove harder yet." Severus said. "There is a slight chance we'll stumble onto something while searching about the Gaunts but…"

"Slim chances, right." Harry agreed. "Searching for the Muggle branch of his family is a possibility too but all I really know is that his father's name was Tom Riddle too. I suppose his family was from somewhere around the cemetery I was transported too after the Third Task but damn me if I know where that is!"

"As things stand," the potions master stated, "the Gaunts are our best shot. They and the locket."

"You know," Neville began, rubbing his forehead as if he was trying to chase a headache away, "while I truly hope Voldemort has created no more Horcruxes, I can't help thinking; what of there  _are_  more? We know of two so far and that was pure luck. Where do we even begin our search?"

"We'll simply have to take it one step at a time and hope for the best." Harry offered, his gaze trailing towards the box that contained the Horcrux. Goosebumps rose on his arms as traces of Voldemort's magic reached him even from inside the box. He would place a seal on it too, he decided; no use in taking unnecessary risks at the point. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply; something inside him told him that the hunt for Voldemort's Horcruxes had only just began.

 


	73. The Curious Case Of Mr. Riddle, Part I

By the time the sun rose the next morning, Harry had already been awake for two hours, only the accumulated tiredness of the past few days having allowed him to sleep. He still had about three hours to go till he was due for his appointment with Rita Skeeter so he found himself walking towards the kitchen in search for food. He wished he could say that a good night's sleep had made things clearer in his head. The truth however was, he felt just as disorientated as he had when he had gone to bed last night.

"Good morning, Minnie." He greeted the house elf as he walked into her domain, plopping himself on a chair unceremoniously. The world had stopped making sense it seemed; how did he always manage to find himself in situations like these?

"Good morning, master Harry." The elf answered kindly, serving the teen breakfast, fluffy pancakes covered in blueberry syrup having, seemingly, appeared out of thin air and into his plate. "I hope the young master feels better today?" Minnie asked, her round eyes even wider than usual.

"Thank you, Minnie." Harry said, accepting the cup of coffee she handed him. "And please, do not worry yourself. I will be fine, in the end. I always am." I hope I will, he added inwardly but chose not to voice his thoughts.

"It is just that…" The elf stammered and toyed with the hem of the white towel she used in the place of a dress, eyes downcast at what she perceived a daring on her part. "If young master Harry is in trouble, Minnie would do anything to help." Large, vividly blue eyes made contact with Harry's. "Minnie hopes the young master knows that?"

"Minnie…" Harry muttered, his heart warming at the elf's declaration. He got off his chair and kneeled, so that he was at eye level with Minnie and smiled, as true a smile as he had ever given. "Dad and I would have been lost without you; this whole castle would be too. The best way to help me is to keep doing what you've always done; as Dad likes to put it, you're the one that keeps us in line." The elf blushed a dark crimson at the praise, bowing her head once more in an effort to hide it.

"The young master is being kind as always." She said, resuming her blushing.

"I'm merely stating a fact." Harry said and smiled even brighter when the elf raised her gaze to hold his own. A small tentative smile edged on Minnie's face too, her large eyes watering.

"Now, young master Harry, you should eat your breakfast before it gets cold." She admonished tentatively, making Harry nod and return to his pancakes. What would have they ever done without Minnie, he wondered idly before his thoughts turned to the meeting swiftly approaching, making a mental side note to ask the elf about her nephews later; Orbein would need house elves too and if her nephews were even half as competent as Minnie he would be set. Concentrating on the more pressing matter of his appointment with Skeeter, Harry repeated the plan, as it had been decided last night.

He would have to go in disguise, of course, not that he was worried about that part; he had years of experience in appearance altering charms to fall back on. Neville and Draco would be there too, their own appearances altered, just as a precaution and to keep watch of the crowd. Paranoia could possibly pay off in case somebody entered the pub when they shouldn't or if Skeeter had brought company. Not that their discussion would be overheard; Harry was prepared to cast every charm he knew to prevent that.

What worried him the most was how Skeeter was going to react to the assignment he would set for her; there was always the chance that she would go too deep, try too hard to uncover what she thought would be a great scoop and endanger, not only their search for horcruxes, but her life too in the process. And though he could mask the true purpose of the task he was to set for her, giving her names of many a family to look for, he wanted the information to be detailed and arrive fast. He couldn't simply hold onto the locket forever.

All he could think of doing was give her a certain amount of time to bring back the information he asked, offering her only a few more names of wizarding families after she had completed her research on the Gaunts, just to throw her off scent. But the Gaunts would have to go first and foremost. Sighing for the umpteenth time, he turned towards the kitchens' door where his father stood, having just woken up himself. Or having decided to drag himself from his bed after a night of tossing and turning more likely, Harry thought, if one took into account his tousled hair and sleeping attire.

"I feel like I haven't slept properly since before the Triwizard Tournament." The potions master stated, plopping heavily onto the chair across his son, his voice husky from sleep, or rather the lack of it. Harry chuckled and nodded in agreement, taking in the dark circles under his father's eyes that he knew mirrored his own. Minnie followed his example and glared at her older master as she placed an even larger stack of pancakes before him. Severus smiled apologetically at the house elf and forced himself to eat.

"I spent all night trying to come up with more things we could work on, anything so that I wouldn't have to wait idly while you and Skeeter researched on the Gaunts and the Horcruxes." Harry admitted, shaking his head resigned. "I've come up empty. There's nothing more I can do before we find out more about the Locket and it's driving me insane!"

"You can keep up with your training." Severus stated. "You can oversee the rebuilding of Orbein. The result of the war may depend heavily on the destruction of the horcruxes, but that alone won't win it for us." He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "I understand you're restless; but you have to be ready to fight, not just to destroy the horcruxes." His son looked at him in silent contemplation for a few moments.

"Have I mentioned how much I hate this?" Harry asked, letting his head drop on the table. "And I know you're right. Of course there are other things I have to do." He admitted, voice coming tired and muffled from where his head lay. "It's just feels like…" He lifted his head just enough to peer at his father; Severus, on his part, waited silently for his son to put his thoughts in order. "It feels like, no matter what I do, there is always one more thing that needs my attention. Like the bloody Hydra; you cut one head, three more appear and I feel like I don't know which way to turn any more." Harry gulped and let his head fall down again. Severus paused for a few moment, finding that he too needed a few moments to collect his thoughts before he could even try to form an answer. The truth was, that his son's description of the situation was more than accurate.

Dealing with Voldemort was just like battling with a Hydra. Despite the obvious serpentine likeness between the Dark Lord and the legendary creature, he thought ruefully, he too found himself floundering at all the new problems that needed to be dealt with before the war was finally over and done with. And what was more troubling was the not knowing; there was no way to know how many heads this Hydra would sprout. Not until the very end.

"I think liking Voldemort to a Hydra is quite apt." He stated, carefully considering his words, trying to express how he felt of the situation without resorting to a flight to the dungeons and a training session against the dummies there. "And just like with a Hydra, you'll have to cut the head you can reach and cauterize the wound, dealing with it once and for all. The time will come to hunt for the horcruxes; for now, focus on the rest of the issues around you."

"I can do that, I think." Harry stated, a soft smile edged on his lips. At least he could keep his hands full and his mind occupied; anything so that he wouldn't just have to sit back and wait. Maybe it was time to finish with that second animagus transformation. He would have to ask Neville and Draco if they wanted to start with theirs this afternoon and… "Ugh, I almost forgot!" Harry exclaimed, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose, annoyance radiating from every pore of his body.

"Forgot what?" Severus asked, looking at his son concerned.

"You have to go to that gala tonight and I have to return to the Headquarters for a few more hours. They'll be cleaning the bedrooms today." He shook his head once. "I would like to go back and look through the house again, but with everybody there…"

"I could skip on the gala and help you out." Severus pointed out. "The faster the work is done, the sooner you can return to overseeing Orbein."

"No, I think you should go; Fudge will be there and…"

"…And somebody's got to keep watch over the fumbling imbecile, I know." Severus stated, gulping down the whole contents of his cup, the dark coffee helping slightly with his headache. "There have been some rumors you know, that he'll try to reach into Hogwarts." Harry cocked an eyebrow, looking at his father skeptically. The Minister was barely able to do his own job, they sure didn't need him branching out.

"To do what? Discrediting Dumbledore wasn't enough for him?" He shook his head, poking at his pancakes with the tip of his fork lightly, rapidly losing his appetite despite how delicious he found them. "Last time I checked, he was consulting Dumbledore before he even  _started_  with his daily schedule and the most important decision he made on his own was choosing which hat to wear. And now, when there is actual reason to seek advice, he throws caution to the wind and shoulders the decision-making alone?" He grimaced and put his fork down altogether, reaching for his coffee instead. "I find his dash towards independence…" he paused, searching for the right words, "conveniently timed."

"You think he swapped Dumbledore's advices for somebody's that better suited his unwillingness to deal with Voldemort's return?" Severus asked, considering his son's words carefully. It was true that he too had thought along the same lines. Fudge's panic at the prospect of a second war against Voldemort and his willingness to remain blind and deaf at the warning signs didn't explain the viciousness with which he went after the Headmaster. Using the press, he would not put above him but having the forethought -and the audacity- to actually pry into Hogwarts' affairs? That didn't quite sound like the Minister at all.

"It feels that way, doesn't it?" Harry asked. "It all seems methodical, premeditated somehow. What do you think, Dad?"

"I think that Pius Thicknesse's promotion to Chief Advisor of Fudge and Head Director to Ministry in the beginning of the summer was conveniently timed too. As was the death of the previous Head Director; Albert Eames was old enough to be my great grandfather but healthier than most men half his age." The potions master stated, referring to the sudden heart failure of the previous Head Director, earlier that week. "I met him a few months ago and he gave me the impression that he would outlive us all; and though heart failure could happen naturally to a man his age, there are potions that could make it happen too, not so naturally. Untraceable ones, trust me, I should know."

"And now he's dead and Mr. Thicknesse is in the best possible place to offer his opinion to the Minister and succeed Fudge, should he be removed from office." How he would be removed was yet to be seen, but Harry supposed the man still had his uses, even if the dark Lord utilized him solely as a mask to hide behind. "Thicknesse wasn't a Death Eater in the previous war." The green eyed teen stated with certainty; he had made the effort to memorize each and every name of the Dark Lord's followers after he first read on them when he was nine.

"No, but that doesn't mean he isn't one of his supporters; Voldemort had always had connections in the Ministry that he had not introduced or included in his Death Eaters' ranks." Severus reminded him. "A smart move on his part, as you understand; it's difficult to weed his followers out from the Ministry when they're not marked. Doubly so when not even his Death Eaters know who said supporters are." Harry nodded, conceding to that point. A smart move and beneficial to the Dark Lord and to the Dark Lord alone. He hadn't expected Voldemort would make things easy for him but not having to guess and hope for the best in every turn would be a good change, once in a while.

"And should we operate considering him a Death Eater in disguise from the get go?" Harry asked, almost certain of his father's response. He had read some of Thicknesse's articles lately; the allusions of the inferiority of muggleborn witches and wizards were becoming less and less veiled by the month. And his opposition to anything proposed on the Wizengamot concerning intra-race approaches was clear to all who took the time to read the bi-monthly journal containing the reports of its committees. Did anybody even read those journals anymore? Well  _he_  did -reading his father's copy with the two weeks advance the Lords of Wizengamot received it- and he had caught Draco giving his copy to Neville too a few months back, which was smart of them considering they were to inherit a seat one day. The Potter family did have a seat too, of course, that would go to his twin after James passed.

"We should." Severus stated, bringing his attention back to the matter at hand. "I don't know him very well, but I know of his work; he has always been one to support pureblood superiority, albeit not one of its more radical supporters. Would he ever actively go against the Ministry and become a Death Eater? I'm not certain he'd reach such lengths but he'd be easily susceptible to Voldemort's ideology. Even if he's not influenced by Voldemort himself he might be guided by one of his Death Eaters." He shrugged once at his own deductions. "Either way, he has to be watched closely. All the more reason for me to attend the gala tonight, I suppose."

"According to the Daily Prophet, a few foreign Ministers will be in attendance too." Harry offered, trying to appease his father.

"To drink and dance when they should be strategizing." Severus pointed out. "Such a waste of time!"

"Good morning." Neville's voice sounded from the kitchens' doors, accompanied by a hearty yawn, interrupting that conversation.

"Good morning." Father and son chorused, Harry taking a closer look at his brother. The dark circles under his eyes -and the beeline for the coffee pot- spoke of a fitful sleep and Harry guessed that Neville had tossed and turned for the majority of the night as much as he had but had held on to the hope of a few hours of sleep more valiantly than himself.

"I shouldn't be giving you boys that much coffee." Severus muttered, taking a large gulp from his cup. "It's a miracle how you ever sleep at night."

"What is this " _sleep_ " you speak of? Without the coffee it would be a miracle if we stayed awake at day." Neville countered, plopping onto the chair next to Harry.

"Yeah, sleeping is for losers." Harry agreed with a rueful smile, elbowing his brother teasingly.

"I'm raising comedians." Severus stated dryly, despite the soft smile on his lips.

"We're hilarious." Neville agreed. "Especially in the morning when we seldom make any sense at all. And coffee is the secret of life."

"I thought that was chocolate?" Draco interjected, following Neville's example as he walked into the kitchens and straight to the coffee, blond hair in complete disarray. "Good morning, family."

"Good morning to you too, brother." Harry offered as Neville and his father murmured their own tired greetings. "And how are you this fine morning?"

"Lovely, thank you." Draco answered, taking his seat at the table and looking at the wizards around him. "I gave up on sleeping around the time you all did, I suppose, judging from how you look, and decided to get up after I heard Nev muttering something about coffee as he stumbled past my room." Harry snorted at that declaration while Severus shook his head fondly and Neville shrugged unapologetically.

"Now that we're all here," the potions master spoke after he allowed the caffeine to work its way into the system of the two newly arrived teens, "we should review today's schedule."

"Agreed." Harry offered. "Skeeter will be at the Leaky Cauldron in roughly two hours. I'm going to have to disguise myself and you two," he said, pointing at his brothers, "for the meeting before we actually head there, of course."

"We should probably work on concealment enchantments ourselves after today; you never know when we might need those." Neville mused, looking at Draco who nodded in agreement.

"I would have suggested that myself." Severus offered, smiling encouragingly at the two teens. Young as they were, they had made up their minds on sticking with Harry to the end and were determined to do anything in their power to help. Men decades older than them hadn't shown such determination during the first war, Severus knew, and counted himself and his son lucky to have the two teens' support.

"Minnie!" Harry called the house elf and smiled at her as she appeared next to him. "Could you bring me some parchment and a quill?"

"Of course, master Harry." The elf said and disappeared for a few moments, gathering the required objects and returning to the kitchens with them as Lila, one of the kitchens' house elves served Draco and Neville their breakfast.

"Thank you, Minnie." Harry said and turned back to his family. "I've thought about it and figured we should at least give Skeeter two, maybe three more families to look into along with the Gaunts. Not too many so that it would take her too long to return with the information we need but enough to throw her off scent."

"I believe three more should do." Severus offered.

"Have you figured out which yet?" Neville asked.

"No." The green eyed wizard said. "I admit my knowledge of ancient wizarding families is somehow limited. And they will need to be ancient families with obscure pasts or questionable interactions for the Gaunts to fit in. I've left the Ostelers out, for obvious reasons."

"There's no need for Orbein to be brought to Skeeter's attention." The potions master agreed.

"Perhaps we could take another look at that book of yours, Sev?" Draco asked, the time he had spent in Silbreith making him feel more at ease around the potions master to call him such, as Neville did and Severus himself had asked him to while not at school.

"Plenty of ancient families in there." Neville agreed. No sooner than the four had agreed to search the book for names, Minnie had fetched it for them.

"So, which families do we choose?" Harry asked, opening the book.

"Not the Butlers," Draco said, his knowledge of the wizarding aristocracy being of great use to the elimination process, "for they married into the Black line and that might make Skeeter look into Bellatrix a bit too close for her prospective health. I don't see her staying in Azkaban for long."

"What a brilliant thing to consider." Neville muttered darkly, mentally cursing Bellatrix LeStrange to oblivion. "But you're right, I think."

"I wish I could tell you it wasn't so." Severus said, placing a comforting hand on Neville's shoulder. The teen in question smiled softly, his spirits lifting ever so slightly.

"What about the Crawfords?" Harry asked, trying to pry his brother's mind from the deranged Death Eater. "They have a seat in Wizengamot and I've heard many a rumor for their rather shady financial dealings."

"I think we could include them." Draco agreed. "It would throw Skeeter off too, in case she made a connection to the Death Eaters. The Crawfords do err on the unlawful side and could cheat you out of your robes but they have never been aligned with the Dark Lord."

"A trace of honor in them still?" Neville asked, focusing on the conversation at hand and not on his thoughts of revenge for his parents.

"Merlin, no!" Draco exclaimed, appearing convincingly scandalized. "They're just very liberal of the people they choose to steal from. Siding with Voldemort would theoretically mean they could only embezzle what they could out of Muggleborns or Halfbloods, you see, and it's the Purebloods that generally have the money they're after." His declaration was followed by a round of much needed laughter, after which Harry wrote down the name "Crawford" on his list, followed by the name "Gaunt".

"Two more then?" Severus asked.

"Yes." Harry agreed, the conversation carrying on for twenty more minutes, Draco taking it upon him to entertain his family with the odd gossip he had picked up on various pillars of the country's wizarding community.

"So, out of the one hundred and twenty one Lords of the Wizengamont, you'd say we should actually trust what,  _thirty_  or so, to govern the country?" Neville asked, after the list had been completed. And sixty-one of them were actually  _elected_ , the teen mused, as in somebody had _chosen_  them to be there; go figure.

"Food for thought for when you two inherit your seats." Harry stated, smirking at the sour expression on his brothers' faces.

"So, after speaking with Skeeter, what?" Draco wondered, looking at the wizards around him.

"I'll be returning here with you, to lift the enchantments in private and head at the Headquarters for a few hours, assuring everybody Silbreith still stands." Harry offered, having his turn of looking dejected. "I'll try to make a hasty exit. After that, I was planning to oversee the restorations at Orbein until sundown and return for some work at my lab. I want to start on the production of a few charms that may come in handy during the war." Protective alchemic charms for all of them, Harry mused, with strict orders not to remove them from their persons, when possible.

"We'll help you at Orbein." Neville said for both himself and Draco, who nodded in agreement.

"And work on the concealment charms you'll use on us while you're at the Headquarters." The blond Slytherin added.

"I will head straight for Gringotts." Severus stated, nodding in accordance to their plans so far. "There's some research to be made on the locket in their archives as well, I believe. And then I'll return home and get ready for the gala tonight." He sighed and looked at his now empty mug accusingly. "I'd better keep a close eye on Fudge before he does anything spectacularly idiotic and kills us all."

"Ah, optimism! That's the spirit!" Neville exclaimed, causing Harry to breathe most of the coffee he had been trying to swallow. Getting ready for the meeting with Skeeter was a time consuming process as Harry didn't simply change his and his brothers' facial characteristics but explained which charms he used. After he was done, the three teens found themselves observing their reflections in the grand mirror at the fireplace hall. Draco had gone slightly cross-eyed as he studied his now black hair, brown irises and round face, looking at the mirror from a close distance. He finally acknowledged there was no way anyone could tell who he was and uncrossed his eyes, feeling content. Neville now sported a mop of dark blond curls and blue eyes, his own face angular, nose slightly crooked. Harry himself had chin length honey blond hair and gray eyes, a smatter of freckles over his tanned face. All three looked older, making certain nobody would question their presence in the pub.

"Good work, Harry." Severus commented, looking at his son's spellwork pleased. It was decided that he would go first, with a thirty minutes head start. Neville would go next, taking his seat at the bar. Draco would follow, sitting at a table with a novel, seemingly enjoying his morning coffee and Harry would arrive last, at the precise moment of the appointment. Should Draco or Neville realize Skeeter had managed to find a way around the contract and brought somebody along, they would inform Harry who would make sure to express his opinion on the matter to the reporter immediately. If they did not, Harry would take it from there and proceed with the appointment as planned.

Counting the seconds as he paced in front of the fireplace, Harry mentally repeated all that he wanted to say to Skeeter for the umpteenth time. Repetition being the mother of knowledge and all, he assured himself; nothing to do with his nerves. Exactly thirty seconds before nine, Harry had stepped into the green flames and was uttering the name of his destination. He stepped out of the fireplace and into the mostly empty pub; it was a cloudy day and the Leaky Cauldron, who was dimly lit in general, seemed darker than usual. Satisfied with the assorted crowd and taking note of where his brothers were seated, Harry turned his attention towards the reporter; Rita Skeeter was sitting alone, in a table in the far corner of the pub, away from all exits, her back at the wall. Smiling slightly in satisfaction, his fingers closed around his wand in his pocket as he cast the necessary spells to assure their privacy. Nodding once to Tom, the bartender, he walked towards his intended destination.

"Miss Skeeter." Harry greeted the startled reporter politely, bowing slightly and taking his place on the other side of the table. Checking on the protective charms and spells he had cast around them once again and feeling satisfied with how the held strong, he smiled at the woman opposite him a little wider. He was feeling anxious to send her on her way with the research he needed her to do for him and bone tired from the emotional roller coaster he had been put through during the past few days but he was not going to let on in front of Rita Skeeter, that much was certain. The woman was ruthless and, even though he knew their contract to be practically ironclad, he was also aware that the terms "practically" and "absolutely" not only differed greatly but were usually separated by a bottomless pit that swallowed all fools that thought them the same. And the last thing he needed was falling into said pit. No, thank you, he would rather avoid that.

  
"I don't have time for fans today. I'm expecting a colleague." The reporter stated, looking around her nervously as if terrified somebody might see she was with company and get all the wrong ideas. Ruthless and rather slow on the uptake on this fine morning, Harry mused, rolling his eyes at her.

  
"Good morning to you too, Miss Skeeter. I hope you haven't been waiting long." He said, pushing some of his chin length hair back, the honey blond locks having escaped from where he had tacked them behind his ear. Making a mental note to either give himself short hair or, at least, long enough to tie it away from his head when the need for disguise arose in the future, he asked the waitress for a butterbeer and turned his attention back to the startled reporter. "You surely did not think I'd arrive looking like myself now, did you? And from now on, in any future correspondence or contact between us, you will address me as Mr. H. Simple and to the point."

  
"Of course Mr Po- I mean, Mr H.!" Her eyes wide behind her glasses and her face pale, Rita Skeeter stared at the man across the table, waiting for instructions. Pleased that the reporter seemed properly terrified of him -hopefully enough to only look for the things he'd ask and forgo her inborn tendency to snoop around for once- Harry smirked at her for added effect.  
"As I mentioned in my letter, I have a task for you, Miss Skeeter; I think it's time we made good on that contract, no?" He asked, waiting calmly for her response. It was clear in his head that he needed her wary of him but not overly skittish; he had to make sure that she understood what she was to be looking for, after all.

  
"As you wish, Mr. H." She answered and Harry nodded once.

  
"There are some families whose history I need you to research for me." Harry stated, taking a piece of folded parchment from his robes' inner pocket and pushing it towards the reporter. "Focus on their recent history -let's go back a century at least, maybe up to two centuries back- and their financial situation. And, most importantly, Miss Skeeter, I want you to dig for some dirt on those families. Rumors, financial transgressions, dirty little and not-so-little secrets. The more the better." She unfolded the parchment and looked over the small list of names.

  
"I don't believe those will give me any trouble, Mr. H." Skeeter assured him, folding the parchment and placing it in her bag. "What else can I do for you?" She asked meekly.

  
"Why, nothing else for now, Miss Skeeter!" The reporter's eyes widened comically and Harry found himself chuckling at her predicament. "Come now, Miss Skeeter! I did promise only to ask for information you can procure and that alone. I'm a man of my word."

  
"Of course, Mr H, I never meant you weren't, I mean..." Harry chuckled at the flustered reporter and drunk from his butterbeer catching Draco giving him a mystified glance from across the room with the corner of his eye. He supposed they made for an interesting picture, the usually unruffled reporter looking frazzled and a young man sitting with her, looking very much at his leisure, in direct contrast with his unlikely company.

"I understood what you meant perfectly, don't worry." Harry assured her. "When do you think you'll have the information I asked for ready for me?"

"Let's say a week and go from there." Skeeter replied thoughtfully. "If that's alright with you, of course." Even if Harry would have wished for that information  _yesterday_ , he understood why she might need a week to gather everything. Above all, he wanted accurate details, something concrete he could lean on when interrogating the Horcrux. He could wait a week.

"Agreed." Harry stated, slowly raising from his seat and extending his hand for a handshake. "I will see you in seven days exactly, in this very spot. Same day, same time." He tilted his head slightly to the left, seemingly studying the reporter; Rita, on her part, appeared more and more agitated under his gaze. "I do not believe I need to stress how you are to keep to what you have agreed on the contract; you've been sworn to secrecy and that's exactly what I demand of you."

"Of course, Mr H!" She hastened to assure him. He nodded.

"Good." They shook hands once more and he turned around to leave, making sure he left enough money on the table to pay for her drink too; manners were manners and his father had made sure he knew how to conduct himself in every situation even when dealing with someone as disagreeable as he found Rita Skeeter. Minnie's gentle prodding during his childhood and the small rewards -mostly in the form of chocolate cake- when he did something in a manner befitting of the young master of Silbreith, ensured he would never forget what his father had instructed. He walked towards the fireplace purposefully and flooed back to Silbreith. His air of self-assurance didn't last longer than that; the very moment he stepped foot in the castle, he reached for the closest armchair and let himself collapse upon it with a groan, allowing the charms he had placed on himself melt away.

There he remained, eyes closed, one hand pressed over them, until the flames flared green once more and Draco stepped into the room. The young Slytherin called his brother's name once, then twice, before Harry as much as twitched.

"Harry!" Draco called for a third time, still-brown eyes widening in fright. "Did something go wrong?" The green eyed wizard simply shook his head negatively, pointing his wand towards Draco and flicking his wrist once, lifting the spells he had cast upon him. One more burst of flames and Neville followed his brothers home, smiling widely.

"I think that went as well as could be expected!" He exclaimed jovially, looking from Draco to Harry smile never faltering.

"I'm not so certain." Draco offered; Harry, on his part, groaned once again.

"See?" Neville said pointing at Harry. "Told you it went well!"

"It did." Harry agreed, seeing how Draco only got even more worried by the second. "It did go well. It's just that, the moment I returned to Silbreith, I realized we actually have to wait for a whole week, practically  _sitting_   _on top_  of a Horcrux and be unable to even open the lid of the box we've put it in." He carded a hand through his hair in almost-desperation. "All the while knowing there's a way to destroy it too!"

"She said she'll need a week?" Neville asked, wincing slightly. Harry nodded, removing the concealment enchantments from the brown eyed Gryffindor. He proceeded to narrate exactly what had been said between him and the reporter.

"I've set up an appointment for next week; same day and hour." He finally told them, shaking his head contemplatively. "Let's hope she'll have something solid by then."

"Well, you  _did_  ask Rita Skeeter to dig up some dirt." Draco reasoned. "Isn't that her thing?" Harry chuckled in agreement.

"That, it is." He agreed, looking at the grandfather clock by the fireplace. "I still have about three hours before I'm needed at the Headquarters. Maybe we could head over to Orbein?" A quick stop to the stables later and they were off, Harry inwardly praying his father had better luck with his search all the way to his castle.

As things were, Severus Snape could boast, if not exactly finding the answer to the mystery that was Voldemort's younger years, at least a momentous strike of luck. He had left Silbreith that very morning with no particularly high hopes. The closer he got to Gringotts the more concerned he got; about his son's meeting with Skeeter, the Horcrux that lay locked away back home and, of course, his own plan.

He had entered the archives with little hope. For, while the ledgers he intended to search for were open to the public, what he had failed to mention to his son, Neville and Draco concerning the archives -mostly because he dreaded thinking too much on it himself- was this; the archives of Gringotts were open to all to read and benefit from, that was true. What was also true was that one rarely found what he was looking for. And, upon first regarding the archives, a seemingly endless room with bookcases upon bookcases filled with ledgers, reaching as far up as the ceiling he could barely see and then more reports stacked haphazardly upon each other, he was pretty much convinced he had set himself up for failure.

  
"I could search on for years and never even come close to what I wish to find." The potions master muttered to himself, inwardly wondering why in Merlin's name he had thought this a good idea. Nobody else was in the room, apart from the curator of the Archives at the opposite corner from the entrance -Severus could just make out his desk from were he stood, hidden as it was by, surprise of surprises, more files- all sensible wizards having given up on the goblins' archives about a century and a half ago, when they first opened their doors to public.

"Sleep deprivation." Severus concluded, walking, despite himself, towards the desk that was the closest to him and shrugging off his cloak on the bench he expected to spend the greater part of his stay seated upon, throwing his briefcase next to it. He had spent a noteworthy part of the past twenty years immersed into the study of one principle of magic or the other, he had translated obscure tests written in extinct languages and he had toiled patiently as he revolutionised the field of healing potions; and yet, simply looking at the towering stacks of documents on the desk in front of him alone had him feeling overwhelmed. " _Definitely_  sleep deprivation," he concluded and headed towards the closest bookcase, trying to make heads or tails on how the filing system worked.

  
After a couple of hours of reading through irrelevant and over-analytical reports of little substance, he reached the conclusion that it wasn't that the filing system didn't work that was the problem. If there even  _was_  a filing system -and Severus suspected there was one indeed, carefully conceived by the goblins to throw everybody not working in Gringotts off, damned sly creatures- then it fulfilled its intended task marvellously; it prevented interested wizards from finding what it was they were seeking. It was all the Ministry's fault, the potions master concluded, and, of course, a direct by-product of the stubbornness and the conniving nature of the goblins.

  
A century and a half ago, after the Minister of the time -a certain Mr Covington, a wizard of questionable intelligence where personal gain wasn't involved- had almost led the country to bankruptcy. Since then, history had proven it had been the Minister's certain proclivity for betting on the wrong hippogryphs and a flair of his and his directors for embezzling. At that moment it time, Mr. Covington had assured the nation it was the secrecy of goblins that had almost driven the country to financial ruin; the goblins wanted nothing else but to protect their gold, he had said, and their centuries old practice to keep their reports secret had left the Ministry unprepared for the crisis. Had the Ministry had the right to go through their reports, they would have had a better insight on how to deal with the changes in the ever mercurial field that was world economy.

The Ministry had issued a degree that just about ordered Gringotts to open their reports for public view or face the consequences, said consequences being increased Ministry control over the bank. It was only luck that the goblins did not feel like starting yet another revolt and instead complied with the demands of the Ministry, in their own, special, sadistic way. They had gathered every single report that had been written in Gringotts starting from the past decade up to two years before the degree had been issued -not-so-kindly reminding the Ministry officials that had been supervising the procedure that without that two year window they would likely lose the edge in the investments their own goblin financial advisors were overseeing- and deposited them all in a newly erected sector of the bank, the building of which they had billed to the Ministry itself. A magical contract was signed and that was that.

It was chaos; the goblins had an inherent inclination for writing reports on anything and everything. With every month that passed, thousands of reports and ledgers flooded into the Archives, in no apparent order. Everything had been catalogued, from the most important transactions and mergers to the new office supplies of every separate department of each branch of the bank, all ending up in thick files of identical appearance and thrown into the same room, charmed especially to prevent summoning them based on content, name or year.

When goblins were asked for help into locating a specific file, they presented you with a sixteen pages long form that asked you to provide detailed information on the report you were looking for. Information, of course, that one could not possibly have without reading the report they were looking for. If one tried to protest, they were asked to submit a complain form that was double the size than the original. Once, about eighty years ago, an effort had been made to take the situation to court. The goblins stated that the contract they had signed bound them magically to present the public with every single report they composed. The contract was foolproof and that was that. Absolute chaos.

And even though any wizard that possessed an ounce of logic wouldn't step within a hundred feet from the Archives, Severus was also aware that, somewhere within that pandemonium were the files he was looking for. The goblins kept track of goblin made artefacts. The reports existed; the question was  _where_. Two more hours passed in a similar fashion, the potions master getting increasingly frustrated; he had finally managed to find a single file regarding a bracelet of goblin origin that the bank had been keeping track of for over two centuries before it had been reclaimed by the bank forty years ago.

And, while the fact that the file seemed to have been updated over the years -there  _was_  a system, he just  _knew_   _it_ \- meant that any information on the locket was probably in one file too, when he had returned to the adjacent reports on the self he had found the file on, he was ready to commit murder; what he had found on each side of the report he had just read was a detailed ledger of the bank's Syrian branch concerning their offices' monthly supply in parchment, composed the year 1925, and a report on the loans of a company that had closed twenty years ago, dated from the fifties. He had barely managed to return to the desk he was occupying and was fully prepared to spend a few minutes wallowing in misery when the unexpected had happened; the curator approached him.

"You are the inventor of the permanent Wolfsbane." The goblin had stated, not bothering forming a proper question. "Mr. Snape, correct?"

"Professor Snape." Severus corrected him mechanically, observing the goblin with weary eyes. His hair was red, his nose large and crooked and, in dire contrast with every other goblin he had ever seen working at the bank, he looked young. Severus supposed that was because the Archives were generally empty; it was an easy job to watch over them, a nice place to start, perhaps, when working in Gringotts. "Excuse me, master goblin, but I do not know your name."

"Alved." The goblin offered, bowing slightly, still regarding the wizard in front of him with some apprehension.

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance then, Alved-nûr." Severus offered, still not understanding the reason for this conversation; and the goblins rarely did something without an ulterior motive. Alved, on his part, seemed mildly shocked over the fact that Severus not only knew the proper way of addressing a goblin but chose to use it too; his eyes widening marginally, he returned the sentiment.

"Pleasure to make your acquaintance indeed, professor Snape." He blinked once, before carrying on. "Excuse me for interrupting you, professor, but you are the first wizard that has walked into this room for the past six months. And the only one I have ever seen staying for over an hour since I started working here." He added after a short pause. And somewhere in the depths of Severus's soul, the part of him that was purely Slytherin stirred. The goblin in front of him was young and curious and he had heard of him. Maybe he could work that to his advantage?

"To be absolutely truthful, Alved-nûr, I was not intending to stay longer than that myself." He offered, studying the goblin's reactions as he picked his words carefully.

"Yet, four hours in, and here you are." The goblin stated, taking the bait. Severus nodded, his brain working on overdrive.

"Well, yes." He admitted, smiling ruefully. "I had intended on conducting a bit of a research on the contracts Nimbus Co had signed with their independent broomstick designers in the past decade, on behalf of Harry, that is to say, Mr Harry Potter." He said, trying to give his story a personal note while keeping everything vague. The cover story he had come up with was quite plausible, he decided, giving himself a small, mental pat on the back, and the best he could think on the drop of a hat. "The company itself refuses to provide them, but I understand all such transactions go through Gringotts? I'm afraid they're trying to capitalise on Mr Potter's young age and cheat him out of his rightful earnings." The goblin looked miffed at the prospect, disagreeing on principle where transactions as such were mentioned. "I was in Diagon Alley," Severus carried on, "and decided to visit the Archive and try to look for the contracts myself. Completely idiotic of me, of course," he added, "trying to do a goblin's job. I should have gone straight to Nagnok- nûr, mine and Mr Potter's financial advisor, with the issue." Another rueful smile. "I'm afraid I'm not cut out for this."

"Surely, your advisor would be aware if Mr Potter was being taken advantage of?" Alved asked, his insinuation that Severus might not trust his goblin advisor after all bordering on accusation.

"There is nobody more qualified than Nagnok- nûr to smoke out any discrepancies." Severus assured him, the first truthful titbit he had offered to the goblin since he had stated his name. "It's just that they try to do the same in every single contract and the thought just struck me as I was passing by Gringotts. Now that you mention it, ofcourse, I realise that Nagnok- nûr probably already has all the information I need.  _Of_   _course_  he does." He added a grimace for good measure. "As I said, I'm horrible at this. Without Nagnok- nûr,  _I_  would be the one cheated out of my money."

"It is only natural to desire personal knowledge when such contracts are signed." Alved offered, clearly appeased at the high regard Severus held his goblin advisor and the general acknowledgement that goblins were superior to wizards on matters of finance. "And tell me, professor Snape, have you found what you were looking for?" The goblin asked, looking at the file that lay open in front of the potions master. And now to the main event, Severus thought, swiftly organising his thoughts.

"I admit I did not." He stated. "And I would have already left, only I stumbled on this very interesting report." He pointed at the file in front of him. "I was not aware that Gringotts was keeping track of goblin made artefacts or that it was possible for the goblin nation to reclaim them!" He said, eyes widening slightly.

"Of course we do!" The goblin exclaimed, insulted.

"I mean, I  _am_  aware that some of the artefacts that had been acquired illegally were returned to the bank after the seventh goblin revolt," the potions master offered, not wanting to give the goblin a lot of time to mule over the subject, certain that Alved's indignation could be spurred into anger. And angry people tended to talk; from his experience, goblins weren't excepted from that rule. "I just wasn't aware that Gringotts kept watch over the ones that had been bought legally too."

"Not a single of those objects was truly acquired legally." Red tinted Alved's cheeks, his fists clenching. "The goblin nation was forced to sell priceless artefacts after the second goblin revolt in an effort to rebuilt and rise from its ashes. We had no other option at the time, but now we can buy those objects back. Yet you wizards won't return them; you pretend not to have them and, when they resurface, you claim ownership based on the titles acquired over a millennia ago!" Alved was, thankfully, very passionate on that subject. Just a little longer, Severus mused. "You resell them to private collectors and the ownership titles with them. But we're patient." The goblin assured him. "If you wait long enough, families die out heirless and then the artefacts can be reclaimed."

"Forgive my ignorance, Alved- nûr." Severus offered, trying to appear properly mortified. "I had heard the rumours of such transactions after the second revolt, but had thought them just that; rumours. But they're true? I have studied the revolts, as all wizards do, at school, but I never heard of such incidents."

"I suppose you're not taught that at your Hogwarts!" Alved stated vehemently. "How could you be, when your school's very Founders were included in those that profited from our plight?"

"Surely not!" Severus exclaimed in a scandalised tone.

"I can assure you, they did!" Alved insisted. "Have you not heard of the Treasures of the Founders Four?"

"I do not believe I have heard the term." Severus admitted, quite truthfully; he had never heard any objects of the Founders being referred to with such a name. He suspected he knew which they were though; the famed diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, he supposed, was one of them. The sword of Gryffindor and Slytherin's locket made three and there was a rumour circling around the school for Helga Hufflepuff's golden cup, one she favoured during her days at Hogwarts.

"Slytherin's locket, Gryffindor's sword, Ravenclaw's diadem and Hufflepuff's cup." Alved recited. "All priceless, all stolen. None ever returned."

"I have heard of the stories, but I thought them myths and fables. Surely, who hasn't heard of Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem that made its wearer wise?" Severus wondered.

"Myth and fable indeed!" The goblin agreed. "There's no crown to make the thoughtless wise!" Just the thoughtless cockier, Severus privately agreed. "But they exist, professor Snape, make no mistake." The goblin was now speaking with the air of a connoisseur and Severus decided it was time to approach the subject that truly interested him.

"But if they're priceless, as you say, how come I have never heard of them, or seen them exhibited?" He wondered. "They're not in Hogwarts still, are they? Are they in a private collection? You surely  _must_  be keeping watch over them!" He gave his best to sound interested, not a difficult feat as he desperately was.

"Oh, but we do!" Alved agreed and raised his right hand, his clawed pointer finger turned towards a bookcase a good fifty feet from were they stood. A single file flew from one of the highest selves in a cloud of dust and landed loudly on the desk in front of them. Severus' heartbeat increased to dangerous levels, his head spinning.

"You do?" He asked, trying to fight his dizziness away.

"The treasures of the Founders Four are prime examples of the work of the goblin master-smiths of old." The curator stated, opening the large file with steady hands. Severus looked on transfixed, afraid to even breathe too loudly or even twitch in case Alved saw it fit to not share the information he had after all. "This here, is the main file we keep on them; it's accompanied by a number of reports on each object." The goblin shook his head, anger burning bright in his eyes. "In here lies all proof one would need to convince themselves of the treachery of wizards!" Alved seemed momentarily taken aback by his own declaration, looking at the potions master next to him. His anger hadn't abated in the least but he seemed to finally recall that Severus was not only a wizard himself but one of the most prominent clients of the bank in the country. Hastily, he backtracked; "I may have come out insulting to you but, I assure you, I did not mean..."  
"It's absolutely understandable, master goblin, to feel enraged over such a slight towards your nation." Severus offered eagerly, surprising himself with his eloquence in the face of his terror; he would have said anything if it kept the goblin speaking, his frantic mind supplied. "Though, I must admit to some curiosity, for I have never heard of the goblin side of this story!" He said, looking at the curator earnestly, eyes wide and hopeful, fully aware that he looked the part of the eager student he had once been, during his first year at Hogwarts. Thankfully, Alved thought it rather fluttering, having captivated the attention of such an esteemed wizard and important client of Gringotts and -now that he had the added reassurance that he had not, in fact, insulted said client- was more than eager to carry on with his story, not much looking for the motive behind Severus' excitement.  
"Very well, professor. Wizards, I believe, should be aware of how they mistreat other races. The Ministry has the unfortunate notion of being infallible when, in fact," he opened the file on the very first page, Severus' eyes poring over the lines, "they couldn't be farther from the truth." Some tiny part of his mind idly agreed with the goblin's conclusions about the Ministry but those stray thoughts were all he could spare from the documents in front of him.  
"Are some of those treasures in the possession of the Ministry?" Severus asked, using the term the goblin had given to the four heirlooms for added effect.  
"The Ministry, I can assure you, will never have them." Alved stated with conviction. "They can only be passed down from one wizard to the next and not to an institution. With nobody to claim them, they would pass to Gringotts." His demeanour turned even darker. "Or, as things stand, they  _should_  have passed to Gringotts already."  
"No surviving heirs?" Severus asked, knowing fully well at least one of them had an heir to claim it. Could the fact that Gringotts knew nothing of Voldemort's parentage mean that he hadn't acquired the locket legally? Not that it would surprise him, of course.  
"Not any more, no." The goblin stated. "Some distant relatives of course, but none of them mentioned in any will."  
"And yet you have not claimed them?" Severus asked.  
"We would have, could we find them!" Alved exclaimed, flipping through the pages of the report, yellowed parchment filled with neat script rolling under his clawed fingertips, until he reached the page he wanted. He turned the file towards the potions master.  
"Which means one of them has gone missing?" The potions master asked, eager to hear of the locket and its origins. The answer he got was not exactly the one he had expected.  
"Which means  _all_  of them have gone missing!" The goblin answered, pointing once again at the page in front of them. It concerned the sword of Gryffindor, one of the heirlooms which Severus knew exactly where it was. Gringotts, apparently, didn't. Albus  _did_  like his secrets, did he not?  
"The sword of Gryffindor?" Severus asked, deciding that simply encouraging the goblin to speak on his own time and controlling the flow of the conversation would serve him better than outright asking for the whereabouts of a single object. Less suspicious in any case.  
"Godric Gryffindor left it to the school in his will." Alved explained. "At the time there was nothing Gringotts could have done but, six centuries later, an official correspondence started between our president and Hogwarts." The goblin grimaced, sharp teeth clenched. "No good came from that; the Headmaster of the time denied having ever seen the sword, or even having heard of it mentioned as anything else than a fairy tale. Nonsense, of course!" Alved proclaimed. "As if it was possible for the very Headmaster of Hogwarts to be unaware of an item of such importance that had been left in the care of his school!" On the other hand, it was quite possible, Severus inwardly commented, recalling exactly how the sword came into the hands of the current Headmaster, having been, literally, pulled out of a hat.

"And you have never tried to contact the school since?" Severus asked.

"Of course we have!" Alved said. "Every time a new Headmaster is chosen, a missive is sent from Gringotts to Hogwarts. No Headmaster has ever admitted of having the sword and we can't simply storm the castle to look for it!" But you would have, if you could, Severus mused.

"That is horrible, simply horrible, master goblin!" Severus exclaimed, playing the part of the appalled, concerned wizard perfectly. "And is there nothing that can be done?"

"With no proof that the sword is in the possession of the school, no search warrant can be ordered." Alved shook his head in contempt. "And if you need proof, professor, that your school is not all it appears to be and your Headmasters are not the pillars of the magical community they style themselves as," Alved said, his resentment towards wizards and witches returning full force as he flipped through yet more pages of the file, "what happened to the Diadem once in possession of Rowena Ravenclaw should provide it to you."

"The Diadem was also left to the school?" Severus asked, not having heard of such a version of the story. According to myth Rowena's Diadem appeared to those few wise amongst the race of the wizards when an extremely difficult decision had fallen on their shoulders. The wizard in question had to ask for the help of the Diadem and would receive it, if deemed worthy. It was said to be carried to the witch or wizard in need -by a wolf-sized raven with sharp claws of silver that spoke the tongue of men- and left with them for three days and nights. It supposedly gave the wearer clarity of mind and wisdom beyond their years to make the best decision possible. A different, much darker, version of the myth had the raven kill those who weren't worthy of the Diadem but dared ask for it, or those who, despite using it, made the wrong decision anyway.

All stories concluded that should one find where the Diadem was hidden, they would have to give the answer to three riddles asked by its guardian -that very same raven. Should they answer correctly, the Diadem and infinite wisdom would be theirs. Should they answered incorrectly, they would be, unsurprisingly, killed. It was that myth -sans the killing part, of course- that had inspired the raven statue that asked the riddles students needed to answer to gain entrance to the Ravenclaw Common Room. Nobody however had ever mentioned the fabled hiding place of the Diadem being Hogwarts herself.

"Not quite, professor." The goblin stated, fists clenching. "The Diadem was left, after Rowena Ravenclaw's death, to her only daughter, Helena Ravenclaw." He pointed at a copy of Rowena Raveclaw's will, the parchment yellow and frail but the script perfectly legible. "She was presumed dead soon after her mother, leaving no heirs. Gringotts, at the time, was not in position to acquire the Diadem, as I have already told you."

"So, Hogwarts claimed it?" Severus asked.

"Not in paper, no." Alved sneered. "But Rowena Ravenclaw lived in the castle at the time. And then she died, her daughter never returned to the school and the Diadem disappeared. There have been no attempts to sale it since, it has never resurfaced in a private collection in over a thousand years." The goblin shook his head. "Unless it has been stolen and lost -or worse,  _reforged_  by some ignorant imbecile- it must still be in the possession of the school. I could bet you your weight in gold that it's locked away in the very same room with the sword, a well kept secret passed from one Headmaster to the next." I would take you up on that bet, good sir, Severus internally commented.

"And that's what's happened with all of the treasures? Are they lost somehow or in the possession of Hogwarts?" The potions master asked, feeling he was finally getting closer to the subject that interested him the most.

"Worse." The goblin stated dramatically, causing Severus' heart to skip a beat. "Those two items are in possession of Hogwarts and thus can be potentially retrieved. The Locket and the Cup however… we have watched them being passed on from one generation to the next, long after the names Hufflepuff and Slytherin became extinct. Until, about seventy years ago, their fates intertwined."

" _Excuse me_?" Severus exclaimed, marginally managing to pass his utter and complete shock as interested confusion.

"Yes they did." Alved offered, satisfied with having kept his audience captivated for so long and proud of his prowess at storytelling. "The last family that inherited the Locket was the Gaunt family, three centuries ago. The family fell into dismay and grew poorer and poorer but the Locket remained in their possession until it was passed down to a certain, Merope Gaunt. She died somewhere in the streets of London alone. The Locket had been nowhere to be found. Until in the mid-twenties, it was rumoured to reappear in the private collection of a Lady Hephzibah Elvira Smith, a distant descendant of the Hufflepuff line, that was also the heir of the Cup."

"She was?" Severus asked, his head spinning, why was an heirloom of Hufflepuff's of importance to Voldemort, the very champion of the superiority of Slytherin House?

"Yes. All our sources said that she had come into possession of the Locket through the infamous establishment of  _Borgin and Burkes_ ; as it is normal for that business, the money exchange was carried on in complete secret and the Locket was bought for a price possibly a hundred times its weight in gold." Alved pointed at the page where the acquisition of the Locket by Miss Smith was first mentioned, Severus never taking his eyes of the paragraphs in front of him as the goblin summoned a few more files from various bookcases around them. "These here," he said, pointing at the new files, "are all of Gringotts' lawsuits issued against Hephzibah Smith in the span of twenty years. She hid behind and army of lawyers until her death in 1946. Most of her fortune was left to various institutions and some scraps to distant nieces and nephews. The Cup and the Locket were never recovered."

"Neither of them?" Severus asked, looking at the pages in front of him in alarm. Whatever did that mean for their Horcrux hunt, he wondered.

"Neither." Alved informed him. "The Cup was insured, of course, and the money went to the closest of kin, with Hephzibah Smith dead. It would be very, should we say,  _beneficial_  for her slighted relatives to inherit the three million galleons insurance, no?"

"Of course." Severus agreed, lost in his own thoughts. "Of course, it would be."

"And they would get the added boon of the Locket too." So would a certain Dark Lord, the potions master mused, his thoughts in disarray once more.

"And, if I may ask, Alved-nûr, how did Miss Smith die? I think I have heard something about her death?" He asked, trying to confirm some newly formed thoughts of his. "Maybe I'm mistaken, but wasn't her death investigated by the Aurors?"

"You would be right in that." Alved agreed, nodding. "It did however turn out that it was a mistake of her house elf; the creature was old and senile, from what I've read. It wasn't murder. Make no mistake, professor; the real crime here was insurance fraud and the theft of our cultural inheritance." If only, Severus thought, looking at the files in front of him in wonder, organising his next steps based on the new information at hand.

"You have given me much food for thought, Alved-nûr." The potions master stated truthfully. "I would like to look more into this matter, if I may be allowed. I work in Hogwarts, you understand, and never having heard of this story is not something I take pride on."

"It is not very often that one meets a wizard interested in goblin history." The goblin muttered in gobbledegook.

"It is not often that a wizard has access to different sources of information than those in his school texts." Severus answered in the same language, surprising the goblin out of his thoughts.

"I have heard rumours that you and Mr Potter spoke our language, professor, but I never had believed them up to now." The curator stated.

"After working in close contact with goblins for so many years, it was only natural to get interested in your language." Severus stated. "It is also one of the few ancient languages still alive in its original form; I found myself enthralled."

"Too true, too true." The goblin stated pleased. "It is a very rich language."

"As I was saying, I would be interested in reading more on the Treasures of the Founders Four." Severus offered, bringing the conversation back on track. "And I'm sure Mr Potter would be interested in the subject too. Tell me, Alved-nûr, what type of forms would I need to fill out to copy those documents? Is it even possible?"

"It is quite possible." Alved offered. "The paperwork is rather…  _extensive_ , shall we say, but, as you already have the file in front of you, it's only a matter of filling out the forms." He flicked his wrist and a small pack of documents landed in front of the potions master. "You will have to fill these out and bring them to my desk; I will copy the files for you." A sly smirk formed on the goblin's lips. "I should leave you to it, professor; the task you have chosen to undertake is quite time consuming." If only you knew, Severus thought to himself, summoning a quill from his briefcase and started working on the documents.

It was, true to Alved's words, a time consuming process; but with the main file in his hands, Severus could write down all side files cited in it concerning the four heirlooms of the Founders. And, after the revelation concerning Hufflepuff's Cup, there was no way he could overlook the remaining two objects. He even asked for the files concerning the sword of Gryffindor, hoping for some details that could be find concerning the Diadem, at least, since both were supposed to have been hidden in Hogwarts. And, even if the goblins were mostly wrong about the sword, the fact remained that it was indeed hidden in the school. Maybe they were on to something with the Diadem too.

One and a half hours later, a very dizzy Severus deposited the stack of parchment in front of a highly amused Alved. Unable to get mad at the goblin after his unwitting help -despite his smug expression- he looked on anxiously as the files were copied, making certain the spell used left nothing out, even if the magical contract the goblins had signed when the Archives were created prevented Alved from doing that. When in war, corrupt politicians, as always, had their uses; even the dead ones, Severus mused. Placing the files in his briefcase with the utmost care -praise Merlin and good tailors for extension charms, Severus thought, for there was no way he could have fit everything into a single briefcase otherwise- he bid Alved goodbye, promising he would return to further converse on the injustices inflicted on the goblin race by wizards and left the Archives and Gringotts behind, his next destination clear in his mind.

Originally, he had planned on returning to Silbreith with whatever information he had managed to scavenge. Now? He winced as he walked down the marble stairs of Gringotts and into Diagon Alley, the midday summer sun blinding him after so many hours indoors, his headache intensifying. Now he planned heading for the Ministry and visit the archive section there.  _Borgin and Burkes_ , despite its shadier dealings, was still an antique shop, handling potentially dangerous magical artefacts and, as such, were forced to report the names of all their employees. Maybe, if he was lucky, he could track down one of their employees of the time when the locket was in the shop's possession and question them on it. Voldemort had to have found out of its existence  _somehow_ , after all.

He walked towards the Leaky Cauldron in a daze, thinking of all the new possibilities his trip to the Archives had created. Harry had thought there could be more Horcruxes than those they had found -stumbled on, semantics really- so far and he tended to agree with his son's conclusion. The disappearance of the Cup at the same time with the Locket could very well be connected with their search. Or it could be an insurance scam as the goblins suspected, though he clearly doubted that; something told him that Miss Smith had died of something else than an accident and Voldemort wouldn't just pass by the chance to acquire the Cup of Helga Hufflepuff when it practically landed on his lap. Nodding to Tom the barman absentmindedly, he grabbed and handful of floo powder and made good use of his clearance to floo straight into the Ministry's Fireplace Hall; being the inventor of the permanent Wolfsbane and having to taste it under the watch of the Ministry did have its perks.

The Archive Department of the Ministry was much more organised than the one of Gringotts. Smiling kindly to the elderly secretary, he mentioned that he was trying to locate a specific type of cauldron that was last smithed over half a millennium ago. All very obscure and conveniently vague, of course. It was for a new project of his, Severus explained, smiling even wider at the secretary who blushed brightly in return, and he needed to see the files of  _Borgin and Burkes_  from the beginning of the century as it was there that a cauldron of the sort he was looking for was last seen at.

"Of course, Mr Borgin is not being very forthcoming but I know they sold a cauldron of that kind during the seventies; I just need to reach one of his employees and find out who their supplier had been." Severus confided to Mrs Lloyd, the secretary, shaking his head in exasperation.

"Horrible establishment that one," she readily agreed, "but has al shorts of interesting magical objects. And not wanting to help  _you_ , of all people…" And she shook her head in turn judgingly, pointing the amused -beside himself and his headache- potions master towards the correct direction. Severus thanked her, rubbing his temples tiredly trying to ward off his headache. His smile only widened as Mrs Lloyd offered to bring him some tea as soon as he admitted to his headache.

"I've been dealing with Mr Borgin for the past couple of hours and I was working on my lab since the crack of dawn." Severus had explained and Mrs Lloyd hastened to assure him that she could overlook the rule of no drinks in the archives, just this once.

"Poor darling, working himself rugged." He heard her mutter when she thought she was out of his hearing range and chuckled softly as he walked towards the selves he had been directed at. The Archive Department of the Ministry was quite different from the Archives, the room just as vast but well lit. Severus was not surprised to see he was not the only visitor though the room was far from crowded. Smiling not-so-much-apologetically at the middle aged man two desks next to him who sent him a pointed glare the moment Mrs Lloyd returned with his tea, Severus pulled out an empty parchment and his quill and placed them on the desk was he looked for the files concerning his research.

He wouldn't need to sign the entry ledger just for visiting the Ministry's Archives but he would have to do so if he intended to copy a file. And while he trusted the secrecy of goblins and, most importantly, their magically binding client confidentiality contracts, he didn't feel the same about the Ministry. Even if it was highly unlikely somebody of importance would ever find out about his visit in the Archives -his visit to the Ministry was nothing unusual and he would make a point to pass by the Experimental Potions Division to check on the daily reports of his eyesight-correcting line later- he would take no chances by leaving a paper trail of it behind.

He soon found out the files he was looking for, a few selves away from the ones he had asked Mrs Lloyd for. The information he was looking for was separated into seven different files, one separate file for every five years of work. He knew the Locket was sold somewhere during the mid twenties and Tom Riddle was born in the early years of the same decade. If the Locket was sold by his mother, this Merope Gaunt, quite possibly, then it should have been brought to the shop somewhere around that time.  _Borgin and Burkes_  wouldn't have held onto an object such that for too long, not with Gringotts hot on their tails. Just to be on the cautious side, he pulled out the books from 1915 to 1950, covering the time from ten years before Miss Smith had bought the Locket to three years after her death.

He found the list of names of  _Borgin and Burkes_  employees' in each ledger, amidst the lists and catalogues of the objects deemed harmless enough to have been reported to the Ministry, and jotted them down, initially paying special attention to those that worked in the shop around the time the Locket had been sold. The lists mostly consisted on freelance estimators of antiquities and the odd young witch or wizard that needed the job to start off in the antique selling business, bright out of school. Nothing unexpected or out of the ordinary until he reached the list from the year 1944. He promptly found himself chocking on his tea -the middle aged man from before sending him a self-satisfied look which the potions master easily ignored- as he tried to breathe normally and swallow his tea properly, rubbing his eyes to ascertain he wasn't imagining things out of his tiredness.

For in the year 1944, Tom Marvolo Riddle had been hired at the antique shop. What in the world had the bloody Dark Lord been doing, finding work at an antique shop? Severus hastily jotted down his name and the exact date he was hired, thanking each and every deity for the detailed paperwork the Ministry required of antique dealers. Next to every object that had been reported sold or bought, the name of the employee overseeing the sell was referred. It was in such a way that Severus found out Voldemort had sold antiques of various extravagant prices to Miss Smith during his two year stay at the shop. Because, in 1946, his name suddenly disappeared from the lists and didn't reappear.  _1946_ , Severus mused. The very same year Hephzibah Smith met her unfortunate end and the Locket and the Cup disappeared while in her possession. This was no coincidence, he knew. Placing the files back in place, Severus tacked away his notes and walked out of the Archives, his mind buzzing with the new information.

"Did you find what you were looking for, dear?" Mrs Lloyd asked, looking at the potions master concerned.

"I'm afraid not, Mrs Lloyd." Severus stated, trying to act naturally. "It was a long shot anyway; I should have suspected Mr Borgins wouldn't have sold the cauldron legally, what with all the fight he put in not telling me where he got it from. Unfortunately, there is no proof that he ever had it in the first place."

"Shady establishment that, I've always said so." Mrs Lloyd said once again, nodding knowingly.

"It matters not." Severus assured her. "Thank you for your help, Mrs Lloyd, and for the tea. You've been very kind."

"Nonsense, dear, just doing my job." She said, blushing a deep red. Severus said his goodbyes and headed to the Experimental Potions Division, losing his way twice, deep in thought as he was. After a perfunctory meeting with the Ministry's healers, he stumbled his way back to the Atrium and the fireplace hall. Arriving in Silbreith in as much of a daze as he left the Minstry, he unknowingly collapsed on the same armchair his son had favoured a few hours ago, pulling his briefcase close to his chest.

"Master Severus?" Minnie's voice echoed in the hall, soft, shuffling footsteps announcing her approach.

"Hello, Minnie." He muttered, allowing himself one more moment of shocked numbness before snapping back to his senses. "Is my son home?" He asked, twisting his body so he could look at the house elf.

"The young master returned from his castle two hours ago and left again through the fireplace, master Severus." Minnie offered, taking his travelling cloak that lay discarded on the floor and folding it carefully, noting how weary he looked but keeping quiet.

"Are Neville and Draco back from Orbein too?" The potions master asked.

"They returned with the young master, sir. Should I call them for you?"

"If you could, Minnie." Severus offered, rubbing his eyes. "Thank you." The house elf bowed and disappeared with a faint pop. Severus made an effort to seat up straighter on the armchair, his briefcase still held tight in his hands. He used the time it took for Draco and Neville to climb the stairs from the training rooms in the dungeons to rearrange his thoughts in a way that the new information made some semblance of sense.

Voldemort, when he was still merely Tom Marvolo Riddle -had he ever been merely Tom?- had graduated from Hogwarts as a Head Boy in 1943. By 1944 he had got a job in  _Borgin and Burkes_. At that time, he had already created at least one Horcrux, his diary, with the murder of the now Moaning Myrtle. He probably came in the possession of the Locket and the Cup next. They already knew he had made a Horcrux out of the Locket, probably by murdering its previous owner, Hephzibah Smith. Should they presume he had made a Horcrux out of the Cup as well? He didn't even know any more. And if he had, what would that mean for the Diadem? If he had two out of the four heirlooms of the Founders, would he hunt for the remaining two? He hadn't located the Sword, for one.

He groaned at his thoughts. There was little they could do before reading through the documents carefully, following any leads they, or Skeeter, would present them with and then questioning the Horcrux. All he had was theories. Not for long, he promised himself. At least now they had leads; no more fumbling in the dark, he decided, looking at his briefcase. Solid leads, for one.

"Sev!" Neville called, being the first of the two teens to reach the potions master. "Why do you and Harry always pick that specific armchair to collapse on?" Neville, asking all the important question since time immemorial, Severus thought smiling fondly at the young Gryffindor.

"How did your research go?" Draco asked, following Neville into the room.

"Surprisingly well." The potions master admitted. "Much better than I thought it would go, to be honest. How did Harry's meeting with Skeeter go?" Neville took it upon him to narrate everything that had occurred between Harry and the journalist, Draco intervening to add a few details here and there.

"Bottom line, she said she's have the information Harry asked of her in a week." Neville related.

"A week." Severus pondered. "We can wait a week, I suppose." He looked back at the two teens and then at the grandfather watch at the other side of the room. "Did Harry mention when he'd be back?"

"He said he'd try for an hour, when he left." Draco supplied. "That, of course, was two hours ago, so he was probably being optimistic."

"He should be returning any moment now." Severus offered. "Have you eaten yet?" The teens shook their heads negatively. "Then we should grab something to eat while we wait. What I found… Harry should be here to hear it."

"That good?" Neville asked, eyes alight in hope.

"I'm not sure "good" is the term I'd use." Severus said. "Interesting and absolutely useful, more like."

"I'll take that, thank you." Draco muttered, turning around and heading for the kitchen. It was thirty minutes later yet, when they were finishing with their diner, when Harry walked into the room, looking dejected and annoyed.

"Harry? Everything alright?" Draco asked tentatively. The green eyed wizard scoffed.

"Adrian." He offered as a way of explanation.

"What did he do?" Neville asked, rolling his eyes in advance.

"He may or may not have insinuated that I should better return here and design a new broomstick or something, considering staying at the Headquarters and being privy to confidential information would probably make me a liability." Harry explained. "He didn't use the exact words, of course." He added. "He also offered some vaguely concealed criticism regarding the company I keep." He smiled widely, assuming the look his family knew well to mean  _"I'm about to curse somebody"_.

"What a twat." Neville commented gleefully, returning to his desert.

"Couldn't have said it better." Draco muttered.

"Let's not talk about it." Harry pleaded before changing the subject. "So, Dad, how did the research go?"

"Well." Severus said, taking a bite from the carrot cake Minnie had baked for them in contemplation. "Would you mind we take this conversation to the library? We'll need a bigger table than this one, trust me." He stated and looked at the briefcase he had carried along with him. Relocating to the library was a quick affair. For one, all three teens were curious to find out what it was exactly that Severus had uncovered. On a side note, the potions master only had three more hours before he needed to get ready for the gala.

"How did the research go then?" Harry asked once more. "Did you find anything useful?" The potions master cocked an eyebrow at the question and opened the briefcase, pulling out stacks of documents and placing them in separate piles along with the notes he had kept in the Ministry's Archives.

"Let's see." He started, arranging the documents by subject so that he could point to the relevant pile when necessary. "Let me sum up everything before I go into specifics; I found out that the Locket was sold at  _Borgin and Burkes_ by one Merope Gaunt in the early twenties. A few years later, it was bought by a woman called Hephzibah Smith, the very same witch that had inherited one of the other heirlooms of the Founders, Helga Hufflepuff's Cup. And almost twenty years even later, Miss Smith was in regular contact with a certain Tom Marvolo Riddle, a young employee at  _Borgin and Burkes_."

" _What_?" The three teens echoed in wide eyed disbelief.

"Yes. That… that was my reaction too, when I found out." The potions master offered, pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes closed. "I also found out Miss Smith died in 1946, the very same year Tom Riddle stopped working at  _Borgin and Burkes_. Her death was ruled an accident, blamed on her house elf. Neither the Locket nor the Cup were ever recovered. The goblins thought it an insurance scam. Seeing how the Locket turned out, I'm not so certain." Complete silence met his explanation.

"How in the world did you find all that in a single morning?" Neville asked for all of them. Severus smiled ruefully and narrated his whole morning, from his conversation with Alved in Gringotts to his short visit to the Ministry.

"What drives me crazy," the potions master said, "is that all these files are technically open to the public and still, gaining access to them is highly unlikely. Our side could have had this information  _decades_  ago."

"Bloody Ministry; only they could push the goblins to make their records public -without making them public at all- and then leave it to that!" Neville supplied, Harry agreeing wholeheartedly.

"And who would ever think to look for the Dark Lord's past in a list of old employees at a barely legal antiques and dark artefacts shop?" Draco wondered.

"Nobody." Harry answered.

"I too, simply stumbled upon the information." Severus said, agreeing with the line of thought of the two teens. "All I wanted to search for were the names of the employees that worked at the store around the time the Locket was first sold to them and when it disappeared, after the death of Miss Smith. Voldemort working there was the last thing I could have ever thought possible."

"And now we know that Voldemort had, at one point in time, two objects connected to the Founders that he could have turned into Horcruxes." Harry said, looking at the report in his hands contemplatively, eyes trailing over a detailed drawing of the golden Cup. Would Voldemort have done it? Of course he would have.

"So, is it the Cup then, one of the other Horcruxes we're looking for?" Neville asked, looking at his family.

"He had the means to make Horcuxes at the time he found it." Harry stated, green eyes searching his father who was nodding in accordance to his thoughts. "He also had the opportunity to get his hands on the Cup; I can't see how he would pass it up. Because Helga Hufflepuff's Cup?" He pushed the document he had been holding towards the middle of the table, pointing at the drawing. "There's a part of Hogwarts' history, right there. An important part of the country's magical heritage, even. It does strike me as something he'd do, collecting artefacts as such to place parts of his soul into."

"So we can put the Cup down as the most probable vessel of his third Horcrux." Draco offered, looking at the piles of parchment contemplatively, before touching a different pile of reports with his index fingers. "We know that the Gryffindor's sword isn't a Horcrux." He pointed out.

"I can vouch for that." Harry offered with half a smile.

"What about the Diadem though?" The young Slytherin asked, absentmindedly returning his brother's smile. "Could Voldemort have found it too?"

"If he had it must have happened in the years after he left  _Borgin and Burkes_ , mustn't it?" Neville asked. "Unless the goblins were correct and he found it in Hogwarts? I mean he  _did_  discover the Chamber of Secrets when he was sixteen."

"There's no way of knowing that, at this point." Harry pointed out.

"Still, we know he had the Cup in his possession for certain." Severus reminded them. "Too big of a coincidence for it and the Locket to have gone missing at the same time; if it truly was an insurance scam, I believe the Cup would have popped up somewhere since 1946." The potions master reasoned. "And, if we come up with a clever way to word it, we may just find out something about the Diadem from the Locket Horcrux."

"At least now we have something specific to mention to the Horcrux." Harry agreed, nodding thoughtfully.

"The Horcruxes we have so far then are the Locket, the Diary and, quite possibly, the Cup." Neville counted, lifting a finger for each Horcrux. "Three." He stated. "Reasonably speaking, three is a strong magical number. Could he have stopped there?"

"You think he paid attention to that?" Draco wondered.

"If we don't factor the Diadem," Severus offered, "three could be our guess."

"I pray he didn't pay attention to it," Harry stated, shuddering at the thought, "for  _seven_  is the most magically powerful number. And that would mean we'd have to look for five more Horcruxes. Or four," he amended, "if we take into account the piece of his soul that still lives in his body. And that's, plainly speaking,  _sickening_."

"By Merlin, let's  _all_  pray for three!" Neville exclaimed, his expression turning sour.

"Let's work on the hypothesis that the Cup is indeed a Horcrux." Severus offered, trying to pry the boys' thoughts -and his own- from the number seven. "Where would he hide it?"

"Could he have given it to a Death Eater?" Harry asked. "A person he trusted perhaps?"

"He did give one to my father." Draco muttered, eyes downcast. Harry and Neville moved simultaneously, punching the blond Slytherin playfully on the side and throwing a hand over his shoulders respectfully.

"We've talked about this before." Neville stated. "Define yourself with something your father has done once more and I'll kick you."

"I'll help." Harry offered, smiling brightly to both his brothers.

"I'll endeavour not to." Draco gave his word, jabbing them on the ribs as if to seal his promise.

"You evil Slytherin you." Neville muttered, glaring at the older boy. Draco teasingly hissed at him.

" _Now that you mention that…_ " Harry spoke in Parseltongue instinctively, gaining their attention.

"Didn't quite get that." Severus noted, smirking at the shocked expressions on Neville and Draco's faces. The two hadn't heard Harry actually speaking in the language of snakes before.

"Sorry, just thinking out loud." Harry said, smiling apologetically. "I meant, handing a Horcrux to a Death Eater is a possibility too, but I would suppose that would be more probable if he had made  _more_  than three Horcruxes. If he only has one more, don't you think he'd keep it hidden somewhere safe? And I figured, perhaps, inside the Chamber of Secrets?"

"In Hogwarts?" Neville asked perplexed.

"You must admit, if he ever managed to have access to Hogwarts after he graduated -and it wouldn't be that hard before he styled himself as the Dark Lord, the school's doors are always open to past students- the Chamber would be the ideal hiding place." Harry said, fingers tangled in his hair. "The Chamber opens only for a Parselmouth, it's hidden beneath a castle that's considered safer than Gringotts and was, until recently, protected by his pet basilisk."

"Then again, would he take the risk to reopen the Chamber after he graduated?" Severus wondered. "Dumbledore must have been monitoring the bathrooms ever since Myrtle's death; if the entrance was opened on the very same day of his return…"

"True." Harry acknowledged the logic in his father's statement. "But I think it's worth a second look. Not that Dumbledore will let us get close; he's probably monitoring the bathroom still."

"And we wouldn't want  _you_  being caught opening the Chamber." Neville noted. "It's Adrian that's supposed to have opened it the last time."

"That too." Harry admitted, slightly crestfallen.

"You know what would be truly malicious though?" Draco mused, a tight lipped smirk on his face.

"What?" Harry asked.

"You say that Hogwarts is safer than Gringotts." Draco said. "Wouldn't be the greatest irony if a Horcrux was actually hidden  _in_  Gringotts?"

"You think the Cup the goblins have been looking for practically forever could be hidden inside their own bank?" Neville asked contemplatively.

"The goblins take a blood oath not to enter occupied vaults without the owner's permission as long the bank stands." Draco reminded them. "And, while the Ministry searched through all the estates of incarcerated Death Eaters and confiscated many of their possessions that were considered Dark artefacts, due to Gringotts' policy they didn't even make it in front of their vaults, let alone inside them. Harry only got permission to enter a vault that isn't his own only in the case the bank has left goblin management, when it would have, in a sense, collapsed into itself. And he had to entice them with  _mithril_  to do so!"

"And what about the Death Eaters that weren't arrested?" Harry asked. "Couldn't they have hold of a Horcrux?"

"Nobody else from the inner circle is out of Azkaban still." Severus said. "With a few notable exceptions, of course." And he smirked, pointing at himself. "I can assure you, all Voldemort ever gave me were orders."

"So, Gringotts is an actual possibility?" Neville wondered and smirked widely. "Wouldn't you like to be a fly on the wall when somebody told president Melvoz?"

"Even if it could be in Gringotts," Severus said, chuckling lightly at the imagery Neville's words painted, "we shouldn't rule out anything yet. And with Skeeter looking? We might have more information on potential hiding places for Voldemort's Horcruxes; the Gaunts were his last connection with his Slytherin ancestry and, from what we know, we can all agree his lineage has always been of extreme importance to him." One couldn't easily forget Voldemort's interpretation of what his duty was as Heir of Slytherin and how he had acted based on his beliefs. Their conversation continued and carried them through the next three hours effortlessly; Severus left the teens in the library and went to prepare himself for the night that would follow.

He held no misconceptions of what would happen; he would have to spend the entire evening in the company of the Minister, trying to gauge the extent of his intended involvement into Howarts' affairs. He would have to keep an eye on Thicknesse too, see how deep he had sunk his claws into Fudge, all the while knowing he would probably be of more help to his son and the coming war if he remained home. If The Minister's newly established boldness was influenced by Thicknesse, there was little the later would dare declare in a public setting, with Dumbledore's people potentially listening.

"And the Ministry's galas are tedious enough  _without_  having to constantly endure the Minister's presence." Severus grouched at his reflection in the mirror, towelling himself dry. He wished he could have been able to make a hasty escape, but he wouldn't want to miss something of importance just because he couldn't stand the fumbling idiot that governed the wizarding community of the country. Idly wondering if he could use the ritual Harry had discovered for his Second Task and defect to the Merpeople, he amused himself as he picked his robes for the night. He fixed his dark green cravat and added a pin that matched with his cufflinks, combed his hair and sighed tiredly at his reflection, wishing for a way to magically flash forward through the next five hours. Finding none, he surrendered to his fate and left Silbreith.

The gala was held in the dancing room of Stonehold Manor, the residence of the country's Ministers of Magic since the early seventeenth century. The Manor was initially owned by Marianthe Stonehold, who had remained a Minister for over fifteen years. After her death, she had left her ancestral home to the state and it had become the Ministerial House for the Ministers that followed her since then. It was located right outside London and was only accessible through the Ministry itself. For the night, Mrs Fudge had decorated accordingly and with her own personal taste. Seeing how her taste leaned towards everything ostentatious, Severus didn't even know why he bothered to feel surprise when laying eyes on the three, overdone, crystal chandeliers that were illuminating the room; even if he knew they were there, they caught him by surprise every time.

"Monstrosities." He muttered to himself, eyes scanning about before he approached the staircase that would lead him to the actual room; he would then be announced and any chance he now had to observe the setting before he was noticed would disappear. The room was decorated in a manner befitting a Tsar, if a Tsar ever felt the need to show off to his subject that was; rich damasks curtains were pulled on both sides of floor-to-ceiling windows great statues between them, facsimiles of Atlas, seemingly holding up the ceiling. In addition to the three chandeliers, crystal baubles were suspended magically in different heights, varying from close to the ceiling to halfway down the room, illuminated internally by fairy lights. A great banner in red silk hung at the far side of the room, proclaiming this to be the  _"126_ _th_ _Annual Gala for the Promotion of International Cooperation"_ , silver letters in elegant embroidery.

'Just what one needs to promote unity at a time of war,' Severus thought sarcastically as he walked towards the staircase, the mindless chattering of the crowd -Ministry officials and members of the country's aristocracy alike- a mild torment to his enhanced hearing. 'Forget councils of war, a  _gala_  where Mrs Fudge can gossip and the wizards that should be making plans get drunk, is what we need. All that's missing to complete this image of thoughtless extravagance is live peacocks,' he mused, before chuckling to himself as he took better stock of the crowd and adding a 'never mind that', upon locating Lucius Malfoy in the Minister's company.

"His Grace, Lord Snape!" The herald announced, causing the potions master to wince slightly at the use of his official title. Titles were rarely used in everyday company in their time, reserved only for formal meetings such as this or for the extremely conceited. Severus hadn't stepped foot in Wizengamot since he had tasked one of his lawyers to hand his votes in for him due to the fact that his work kept him away from London for the majority of the year. Not hearing himself proclaimed as "Lord" Snape, a title that had been passed down to him by a family that hadn't bothered to even write to him once since he was born, had been a plus. Still, he couldn't begrudge the power his title held, not in times like these. He plastered a polite smile on his face and descended the stairs towards the Minister; Fudge had turned around to look at him as he nodding kindly at the people he knew in the crowd, exchanging pleasantries with a choice few amongst them.

"Severus Snape!" The Minister exclaimed, stepping forward from the small circle of witches and wizards that surrounded him to shake his hand enthusiastically. "So glad you could make it tonight!"

"It's an honour to be invited and a pleasure to be here, Minister." The potions master said, cursing internally as Fudge preened.

"Let me introduce you, Severus." Fudge offered, reverting to first name basis, a courtesy Severus didn't quite recall extending to the man. "This is Mrs Mashira Nahas, the Egyptian Minister of Magic, as you well know." Severus bowed softly and smiled at the Egyptian Minister; she had been a pioneer in Warding Charms before she went into politics and he had read most of her published work to date. "My wife you have met before," Fudge carried on, moving clockwise as he introduced the people around him, "and this is Monsieur Antoine Poligny -am I pronouncing it correctly?- the French Minister."

"Lord Snape and I have met before." The foreign Minister spoke in a slightly accented voice, smiling sociably at the potions master, the two men shaking hands. "Almost a year ago I believe, in Paris?"

"At the  _World Summit for the Healing Arts_." Severus offered, recalling their last meeting. The summit in question was held in a different country each year and last year, when it had been time to introduce his Wolfsbane to the world, it had been France's turn.

"And have you met my new Head of Directors, Mr Pius Thicknesse?" Fudge asked, introducing the middle aged man with silver streaks through his hair and beard that stood next to Mr Poligny.

"I haven't had the pleasure." Severus offered, studying the man opposite him. He would have to watch his interactions with Fudge closely tonight. And that, of course, left…

"But you surely have met Lord Malfoy!" Fudge exclaimed, as Lucius and Severus nodded to each other.

"We have indeed met." Lucius offered, managing to only marginally sneer at the potions master. Severus felt an odd sense of self-satisfaction at how irritated his mere presence made the older man. "Severus, you missed our last gathering." And it was the potions master's turn to almost sneer at him.

"A busy schedule, I fear." He stated airily. "It allows no time for such… frivolities any more." You almost ruined a good man with your idiocy, Severus thought, looking at Lucius' aristocratic characteristics -so similar to his son's- meld into a cold smile. Draco had barely escaped a horrible and undeserving fate, Severus decided, being groomed to become a mirror image of his father.

"You work too much, Severus!" Fudge proclaimed before the animosity between the two became overly noticeable.

"I might." Severus offered, before the French Minister claimed his attention, wanting to talk about his latest line of healing potions. With only half his mind in his current discussion, the potions master paid attention to the people around him, especially Fudge; the Minister spent twenty minutes talking about one thing or another until the conversation shifted to one of the topics that interested Severus.

"Yet I heard you were planning an educational reform, Mr. Fudge?" The Egyptian Minister asked, carrying the conversation on from where it had been concentrated on a few minor changes in her own Ministry's administrative structure.

"Why yes!" Fudge exclaimed. "This might interest you too, Severus, seeing how you work at Hogwarts!"

"What might interest me, Mr Fudge?" Severus asked, his full attention now on the Minister.

"Why, I've been thinking," Fudge said, Thicknesse smirking slightly on his left, making Severus wonder just how much of what was to follow the Minister had thought alone, "that it's high time the Ministry looks into the matters of Hogwarts!"

"In what way, if I may ask?" The potions master spoke softly, not showing any traces of agreeing or disagreeing with the Minister.

"You understand, Severus, it has come to my attention that there is little to none supervision over the chief educational institution of the country." Fudge proclaimed seriously. "I'm planning on correcting that." Could you be more vague? Severus wondered, face still blank.

"Quite right." Lucius offered, nodding encouragingly at Fudge. "As a parent of a son currently at…"

"Her Royal Highness, Princess Evelyn of Norway!" The herald announced, all conversation in the room ceasing momentarily, eyes diverted towards the staircase. Unwittingly, Severus' attention was diverted too. He had heard the name before, of course; a princess finding herself part of the Sisterhood in the tender age of eight had made the headlines of the newspapers for almost a whole week, even away from Norway. He had just never put a face to the name. Princess Evelyn was, certainly, no longer eight years old, Severus mused, blinking once, then twice, as the woman in question descended the stairs. Mr and Mrs Fudge bid their momentary leave and hastened to greet her.

Her skin was fair, her hair was golden, pinned carefully up, and she cut an impressive figure as she walked elegantly towards Fudge. She was dressed in a pale grey-blue gown that floated around slightly her as she moved, making Mrs Fudge -who was dressed in an overdone plum coloured gown- appear like a badly baked wedding cake standing next to her. As the Minister and his wife made a point to introduce her to as many people as possible before returning to their previous group, Severus wondered why she was here; Fudge was excited to have her, of course, but he must have invited her and any other members of the few remaining magical royal houses of Europe to his galas for years. Why was she here now? And why do I even care? He thought to himself as the company of three moved closer to him still. Whispers followed them around, many wondering the same thing as he.

"Did you know the  _princess of Norway_  would be here today?" Mr Poligny asked, fixing his tie instinctively as he spoke.

"Mr Fudge did mention a surprise honoured guest," Lucius offered, patting down his own vest, "but he didn't specify." Severus simply observed the woman in question as she greeted the people she was introduced too. She had an air of gentility as she spoke, smiling and laughing softly at whatever joke the people around her made. She seemed the perfect image of how princesses were described in the fairy tales Harry had loved as a child, as if one of the drawings in his son's old books had taken life and escaped their pages.

_She's beautiful_ , that now familiar, traitorous voice in the back of his mind commented. 'Whoever asked you?' Severus debated internally. Because, yes, he wasn't blind. And yes, thank you, he could clearly see how beautiful the woman was with her soft characteristics and big eyes -how were her eyes that shade of blue, how was such a shade even possible, such a vivid shade of cobalt?- but what was he supposed to do with that knowledge? His family's survival and the war were all that mattered to him at the point, all that had mattered since last July and all that would matter until Voldemort was nothing but a bad memory. What if her eyes were blue? He chastised himself and mentally prepared to be cordial but detached to the princess for the rest of the night.

"And here we are, your Highness!" Fudge exclaimed, hand extended towards the group of people Severus was included in. The princess' eyes were sparkling, whether with mirth or recognition of the people in the group she was being introduced to, Severus couldn't tell. Fudge introduced her to the Ministers first and proceeded from there.

"And this, of course, is Lord Snape." The Minister offered. "You have heard of the permanent Wolfsbane, I presume?" The princess simply cocked an eyebrow elegantly at the question, no other traces of mockery at her part; the slight reaction was enough for Severus to remind himself that this was a member of a secret and ancient covenant, the members of which had powers not commonly discussed out of the confines of the Sisterhood. And Fudge had pretty much just asked her whether she had lived under a rock during the past year; the potions master cringed involuntarily at the Minister's crassness but the princess simply smiled at him, eyes now positively twinkling.

"A pleasure, your Grace." Her voice was clear and soft and it didn't take long for her to integrate herself into their group and their previous conversation. She seemed, in fact, quite pleased to talk about the educational reform the Minister was planning.

"As I was about to say," Lucius spoke once more, his air even more self absorbed not that he found himself in the presence of royalty, "I have a son in Hogwarts myself. I find myself reassured to know the Ministry will ascertain the quality of the education offered to him."

"If I may be so bold to inquire," the princess spoke, "in what capacity will this reform happen? I have been homeschooled myself but I have only ever heard good things about Hogwarts!" Well, thank you for breaching that subject, your Highness, Severus thought, inwardly sighing in relief; finally, this conversation was getting somewhere.

"It's mostly about supervision, you understand, your Highness." Fudge offered, slightly stumbling over his own words at his hastiness to answer. "Then we will see about the changes that need be made; the Ministry, as Lord Malfoy correctly stated, has to keep vigilant watch over the greatest educational institution in the country!"

"And I fear, if I may say so myself," Lucius offered, "the current Headmaster, Dumbledore, has been quite lenient to the people he's allowing to teach." Very subtle Lucius, Severus mused, just barely managing not to roll his eyes at the veiled accusation. I'm hurt.

"Why exactly!" Fudge exclaimed, completely missing the point.

"Is that so?" The princess asked, looking at the Minister intently, under the pressure of those blue eyes, Fudge felt the need to elaborate further, looking at his fellow Ministers, Severus, Lucius and the princess in turn as he spoke.

"Did you know that the professors teaching Defence against the Dark Arts, rarely stay for longer than a year?" Fudge asked. "One of them ended in St Mungo's two years ago with severe memory loss! And History of Magic is taught by a ghost, of all things. A  _ghost_!"

"Un specrte?" Mr Poligny asked, his tone confused.

"I have never heard of a ghost allowed to teach." Mrs Nahas commented, just as perplexed as her French counterpart.

"Did you say a  _ghost_  teaches History of Magic, Mr Fudge?" The princess asked, her eyes twinkling again.

"Yes, a ghost does!" The Minister stated. "And… but aren't you a historian yourself, you Highness?" Fudge wondered, looking at the princess with a newfound interest. Was she, Severus wondered.

"You would be correct." The princess offered.

"And specialised in you Europe's magical history, if I'm not mistaken." The French Minister stated, not wanting to be left out of the princess' attention.

"Correct once more."

"Why, you would be a much better candidate for the job, your Highness!" Lucius exclaimed, obviously considering the prestige of having his son taught by a princess. And while Severus rolled his eyes internally and expected the princess to laugh at the Malfoy's exclamation, she simply said;

"Would you think so?" And she smiled. "I am certified to do so, you see and… Oh, I've always wanted to teach!" Severus almost chocked on his own breath, as silence descended on their group and Fudge's eyes bulged.

"Your Highness, would you consider… it would be a great honour, the greatest even…" The Minister stuttered, eyes even wider as he fully comprehended what he was being offered, all the good press that could come from such a move. "Is her Highness certain?"

"I have taught for a year before you know, as a visiting professor in the High School of Magical History of Norway." Only the most prestigious school of history and archaeology in the world, Severus mused, his own mind numb; what was happening again?

"Yes, I have read some of your published articles in comparative history, published by the School. Excellent work, or so my Director of History and Archaeology tells me!" The Egyptian Minister offered, mostly amused by Fudge's shocked expression.

"Merlin's beard!" Fudge exclaimed before remembering himself. "And would you be interested in working at Hogwarts?"

"I have always heard the best of the school, as I said." The princess stated. "If there was a job opening, I would be thrilled to subject my candidacy, rest assured." I'm missing something crucial here, Severus mused, eyes trailed on the princess. She smiled just a gently as before but there was  _something_  in those cobalt eyes of hers he couldn't read; what was it?

"Your Highness, let me assure you in turn, the job opening most definitely exists!" Fudge was now exuberant, already planning how to spring the news on the press and the potions master found himself at a complete loss of words. Fudge swiftly summoned his Secretary, the woman in pink Severus recalled from his visits at the Ministry, and explained the situation to her. The Norwegian princess gave the address of her lawyer where all paperwork should be sent, speaking clearly and efficiently and, before Severus could begin to comprehend what had happened, the deal had been struck. And while Severus agreed that removing Binns from his position was, perhaps, the only change Hogwarts desperately needed education-wise, having Evelyn of Norway as a professor was not something he had ever considered. He wondered once again if her attendance tonight was accidental or not, after all. If it was, she had certainly taken everything in a stride!

It was in a sense of excitement that Fudge carried on with the conversation for the next half hour; Severus was keeping up, adding his own opinion here and there, feeling more and more certain he'd have to have a private talk with the princess after all. His window of opportunity presented itself as the orchestra that had been playing for the whole evening started on a waltz, signifying the dancing part of the night was about to begin. As the centre of the room cleared out, the guests gathering peripherally around the dance floor, a dozen or so couples remaining for the first dance.

"If her Highness would allow me," Severus offered, bowing slightly towards the princess in question, "may I have this dance?" Almost as if she had expected it, she bowed her head in agreement.

"You may." She said and Severus offered his hands for her to take. The whispers intensified around them as they nodded at their group and walked towards the dance floor, Mr Poligny sending Severus a conspiratorial wink, well in his ninth flute of champagne. Lucius looked as if he had tasted something sour and Severus allowed himself a small smile over that. He was completely focused when they reached the dance floor, arms and hands positioned in their proper place; he had perfected talking and dancing some years back. All that he needed now was a good conversation starter. If only he had thought that far ahead, he mused, cursing his own stupidity; it was the princess herself that stroke conversation in the end.

"So, your Grace," she said, "to what do I own the pleasure of this dance?"

"Could I not have simply asked you to dance because I wished it?" He asked in return and watched her blink a few times confused, a soft blush colouring her cheeks, as if she hadn't considered that possibility at all.

"Ah, well…" She stuttered slightly, looking, for the first time since he had laid eyes on her, like the twenty something woman she was. Unexplainably, he found himself smiling at her.  _Whatever are you thinking, you idiot?_  He berated himself. Her flustered disposition only lasted for a moment longer before the polite mask from before slipped back into place. "You say that and yet you've been trying to understand what angle I'm working the whole evening. I watched you as you watched me, your Grace." She stated, Severus recalling her polite glance, seemingly nothing more than what she had spared for the rest of their group. Had it been more?

"I must admit to some curiosity, your Highness." Severus offered, easing himself into the subject he wanted to talk about the most. "I have never heard of you attending a gathering of this country's Ministry and yet here you are, ready to place your candidacy for a job opening at Hogwarts the very same moment the Minister decided to get involved with the school." He smiled once again as they circled round and round. "I work at Hogwarts, you see. This reform of the Minister's interests me personally."

"It would, wouldn't it?" She asked and smiled differently than before. An honest smile, Severus realised, noting like the polite ones from before. This one lit her eyes, made them crinkle in the corners; she was enjoying this conversation, the potions master realised, finding himself at loss. "I suppose it would." She concluded.

"You see, then, why I'm asking." He persisted, curious to hear what she'd answer, if she answered at all.

"Oh, I  _see_." She said, her smile widening, as if she was indulging in a private joke. She paused for a few moments and simply danced; just about when Severus was considering to push for an answer, she started speaking once more; "You're right in saying I don't usually attend such gatherings." She offered. "And I must admit to some, let's say,  _premeditation_  considering my offer to cover the History professor job at Hogwarts, even if I hadn't planed it exactly that way. I'm here for personal matters, in a way."

"You are?" Severus asked, brow furrowed in thought.

"Quite." She answered. "I was looking for a way to stay close to my sister throughout the year and this job was the perfect opportunity. Luck smiled at me I think. Or fate." Now Severus looked at her in complete confusion; he would be the first to admit he knew little in the way of royal houses, but even he had read in the newspapers, all those years ago, that she was an only daughter.

"I thought you only had brothers?" He asked and she smiled.

"And I never thought I'd run into you here, of all places." She offered, not answering his question. "Yet here you are; I thought my sister would have to contact you first but…" She shrugged slightly, never missing a step. Severus almost stopped dancing altogether, his muscle memory all that kept him dancing.

"Were you looking for me personally?" He asked. "And what sister?" His expression was blank, the icy mask he had developed in his time as a spy.

"I was looking for you." She admitted. "And thought, by birth, I only have brothers I'm a part of the Sisterhood. And I was looking for you on my behalf and that of my sister who is not may sister." Severus' heart skipped a beat. What had she said? The words of Morgana's prophecy came unbidden to his thoughts; could it be?

"How did you know? What are you…  _What_?" He asked, dark grey eyes borrowing into cobalt blue, voice tight with shock. He held onto her tighter, instinctively, and she smiled apologetically.

"There." She said. "I had to say it and there was no easy way to. But I can't say more, not here; we're already being watched as it is." Severus nodded and relaxed his stance slightly; they twirled around the floor as the waltz reached its end.

"You have to explain." He simply stated.

"I know. And I want explanations too." She stated. "This is quite new to me. And it came out of nowhere; from what I understand you were in possession of such knowledge for quite some time?" Severus nodded. "It's only been a week for me." She said. "I'll be leaving here in half an hour and I'll go fetch my sister. If you have a private location for us to speak…"

"I do." He offered, a new urgency in his voice.

"Then we'll meet you at the Leaky Cauldron, isn't that how that pub is called?" Severus nodded. "In two hours from now, then." She continued. "We'll be wearing the green cloaks of the Sisterhood; you may want to come disguised." Severus nodded once again. The dance ended and they bowed to each other, eyes still locked. "Don't fret," she whispered, as he offered his hand to lead her away from the dance floor, "we're here to help."

 


	74. The Curious Case Of Mr. Riddle, Part II

True to her word, Evelyn left the gala almost exactly half an hour after her dance with Severus. She had accepted three more dances, one from each of the male Ministers and one from Lucius who was feeling increasingly annoyed at being ignored after each dance. Ginny had described the man as arrogant at best when she had mentioned what she had gone through with the diary of Tom Riddle and Evy found herself agreeing. As she bid Fudge goodnight and walked her way out of the room and towards the apparation hall, she finally allowed herself to think over the events of the evening. This gala had not been what she had expected at all.

It had all started quite predictably. She had spent the past week getting to know Ginny better; she had been exhilarated to see how compatible they were, just how Ginny was the sister she always wished she had. After their unexpected meeting with Morgana -that had happened and it hadn't been a dream what was her life?- they had stayed awake in her rooms all night, trying to understand what they were supposed to do, what this prophecy asked of them.

In the end, Evelyn had opted on firecalling Charlie, asking him permission to keep Ginny over for the night, with the possibility to extend her stay as "her responsibilities to the Sisterhood" demanded it. She had used the tone her father favoured when he was talking affairs of the state with the Great Council -did they call the corresponding institution Wisengamot? She thought they did- or when he was chastising her and her brothers. She must have emulated it correctly, she thought, for Charlie seemed amenable to allowing his only sister to remain at Home, after being reassured that she was safer there than anywhere else in the world.

After talking and brainstorming till the break of dawn, Ginny and Evy had decided that one, they did not have enough details to come up with a conclusion and two, the only way to find out more about what was asked of them would be speaking to Harry Potter and Severus Snape. Easier said than done, they had thought. Ginny had informed her Severus -and, from what she had gathered, Harry too- lived permanently in an unplottable castle, somewhere in Scotland. Having her own knowledge of unplottable castles, Evy knew the only way into one would be the owner allowing you entrance. And for the owner to allow you entrance you had to have met them first.

Ginny, of course, knew Harry, but she had never been invited to Silbreith herself. She hadn't been really close to Harry during her past years at school, the girl had explained, not quite sure how to approach him and not wanting to force her offer of friendship onto him just because she wanted to know how what had happened in a secret chamber beneath Hogwarts three years ago.

"I know he's smart." Ginny had said. "Everybody knows that. And I know he's a good guy; even if it wasn't for the obvious, saving my life thing, I think he somehow helped two of my brothers, Fred and George, with their plans of starting their own business; Ron said something rather nasty about Harry making friends with rich people only a few weeks back and they rose to his defence; they said that Harry didn't care about money one bit and that he was a true friend whenever they needed him, calling Ron a jealous twat." Ginny took a deep breath after that part of her explanation as she had spoken fast and animatedly, anxious to convey what had happened. "Don't get me wrong, I love Ron like all my brothers, but he  _can_ be a jealous twat."

"Not many people know a lot about Harry, do they? Could your brothers, the twins, know anything more than that?" Evy had asked then, thinking over what she had learnt so far about the teen.

"Not really." Ginny stated. "I know he's good friends with Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy. I've known Neville for some years now and he's the decent, honest kind of guy." She smiled widely then before continuing. "He's sort of dating Luna, my best friend, and he makes her smile. That makes him alright in my books." Evy smiled and nodded in agreement. "Draco Malfoy on the other hand… Had you asked me a year ago, I would have told you that he's bad news, the mirror image of his father. But from what I've seen of him this past year…" She stopped then, a contemplative silence stretching for a few moments. "The truth is, I never knew Draco well enough; he never let anyone get close; I think until recently, he had cronies rather than friends. Don't think I had seen him smile before this year either. But he has been quite civil to me when in the past he would have called me every derogatory name he could come up with and Luna said he made her feel accepted just as much as Harry had in the Yule Ball last Christmas. And he  _did_  stay up all night outside the infirmary waiting for Harry to wake up. I don't truly know." She shook her head. "Those three have only been close friends with each other, I suppose; but should someone know more about Harry, it would be Neville and Draco."

Nodding in understanding, Evy had proposed they should focus on coming up with a way for her to stay close to Ginny during the next school term. If she had access to Hogwarts, she had figured, they would find the opportunity to approach Harry and Severus eventually.

"There wouldn't happen to be an opening for a History of Magic professor in Hogwarts, would there?" Evy had asked jokingly, only to have Ginny groan.

"Don't talk to me about History of Magic!" Ginny had exclaimed. "Did you know our professor is a ghost?"

"Your professor is a what?" Evy had asked then, thinking perhaps, she was a little behind in English vernacular; because, certainly, they wouldn't allow a  _ghost_  to teach!

"A ghost." Ginny had repeated. "Professor Binns; dead for a century, teaching still.

"Would it be silly of me to ask if he has caught up with the historic events of this past century?" Evelyn had wondered, already suspecting the answer.

"The way he teaches, it's a miracle we remember anything of the goblin revolts which, incidentally, are all the curriculum consists of." Ginny admitted.

"Just goblin revolts?" Evy had asked, the historian in her feeling scandalized. "Nothing on, say, merpeople?"

"There are some in the Dark Lake by the school," Ginny offered, smiling wryly, "and all I know of them is what I've read on my own."

"What, no ancient magical history?" She asked, clearly appalled. "First magical settlements? Comparative theory of magical origins?"

"Comparative  _what_?" Ginny asked, clearly perplexed.

"The Great Feudal Wars? Dark Magic movements? Mythology for the younger years?" She was clearly grasping for straws at this point and Ginny didn't know whether she should feel terrified at how her education had been lacking or amused at her new friend's expression.

"Nope?" She uttered, watching as Evy blanched.

"Formation of modern magical communities and the International Secrecy Pact? That's crucial! It's not even history! We're living it!" Evelyn exclaimed.

"Not really, no." The redhead offered.

"I weep for my profession." Evy had simply stated and allowed herself to collapse backwards on the bed. When, two days later, they had read that Fudge was preparing an educational reform, the first vestiges of a plan had started forming. Evy had already decided to go to the gala anyway and now her decision had been solidified. All they needed was planting a seed of what could be, Evy making a covert offer to work at Hogwarts; if that didn't work, she could always claim she wanted to work on a paper and visit the library at Hogwarts as a researcher.

As things stood, the night before the gala, Ginny and Evelyn had left Home and had moved to Evy's ancestral halls. Evelyn's family was completely different from what Ginny had expected; there was none of the stiff formality history books and rumour spoke of. What she found instead were four ridiculously tall, boisterous men -the actual King and princes- blond and cheerful and every bit the Viking warriors their ancestors were and a tiny, equally blond woman, Queen Elaine, dwarfed next to her sons and husband; she was kind with a great sense of humour and looked very much like her only daughter. When Evy had introduced her as her charge and Ginny had explained how she herself came from a large family of nine, all her siblings being male too, Queen Elaine had smiled widely and proclaimed women like them -herself, Ginny and Evy- should stick together to battle the combined and inevitable silliness that surrounded them. Four loud protests later and Ginny already felt like home.

Evy had a room prepared for her next to her own and the two had spent a considerable amount of time choosing a dress for next night's gala. Evy had outright admitted she rarely attended events as such, should she help it, especially if they weren't held by people she knew.

"I don't like to be paraded around and be pointed or whispered at." She had said, Ginny nodding emphatically, knowing the feeling. She had once been the centre of unwanted attention like that, for reasons completely different, and she wouldn't wish the feeling it generated to anyone. Not attending a lot of formal events however, didn't mean that she didn't have the wardrobe to support her should she ever choose to go to one and they had fun selecting the ideal gown. The one they had chosen in the end was carefully embroidered, its light, grey-blue layers falling to the floor like large flower petals. With her hair done up carefully and the shoes to match, Evy had just concealed her emblem and left the castle, prepared to spend a night in the company of stuffy politicians and determined to endure in order to succeed in her self imposed task.

She hadn't expected having the job she wished for offered to her on a silver platter. And she definitely hadn't expected running into one of the two people she had hoped to find a way to meet. The Minister hadn't mentioned that Severus Snape would be in attendance when she had sent her and her family the invitation to the gala. He had mentioned the presence of the two other Ministers of Magic but nothing else and Evy had found herself almost stumbling on her own two feet when Fudge pointed to his own circle of partygoers and the people included in it; as if she wasn't awkward enough on her own, the Fates seemed to think she needed the added pressure. Carefully maintaining the polite façade she had practiced all her life, she had allowed Fudge to lead her around the room towards the one person whose acquaintance she had meant to make. So she walked closer. Then he turned to look at her and she almost swallowed her tongue.

The man was tall -and proclaiming somebody tall when coming from her family actually meant something- and impeccably dressed, with broad shoulders tapering to a lean waist and thick hair, black as a raven's wing, parted elegantly at the side, free of any product. He had an aquiline nose and a strong jaw, high cheekbones and large, dark eyes. Morgana help her, but the man was handsome. She had seen pictures of him, of course, but she hadn't been prepared for his height, or the way his presence demanded the attention of the room.

And she hadn't been prepared for his voice, deep and dark, which was silly, considering she was a Siren and it was her voice that was supposed to hold people under thrall. It was a good thing that he hadn't addressed her directly for at least half an hour after their introduction as she was certain she would have embarrassed herself with unparalleled ease. As it were, she had been allowed thirty minutes to organise her thoughts and manage to actually succeed in what she had come to the gala for. Asking her to dance, while it did solve the issue of approaching him for a more private conversation, did bring the unfortunate addition of, well, dancing.

Evelyn had been taught to dance from a very young age and her teachers all insisted she was quite good at it. She usually danced up and down her room and all around the corridors in her home, waltzing steps and foxtrot and whatever random moves struck her fancy. When she was alone. As in, when nobody was watching. When in a room with close to a hundred people, their eyes trained on her? She'd rather not, she really would. When one Severus Snape had focused that dark gaze of his on her too? Morgana have mercy!

She had done her best to mentally steel herself for the conversation that was certain to follow; the potions master had seemed eager to speak to her -could he know she had something to do with the prophecy or did he suspect her to be in league with Fudge?- and she had allowed him to lead her to the dance floor despite her trepidation. Evelyn had thought herself prepared for whatever he might wish to ask; and still, the man had managed to surprise her.

"So, your Grace," she had said, speaking first, wanting to get to what she needed to tell him most, "to what do I own the pleasure of this dance?"

"Could I not have simply asked you to dance because I wished it?" He had asked her in turn; it took her a few seconds -and some embarrassing stuttering, damn him- to realise he had said that on purpose, trying -and succeeding- to break through her uninterested mask. Irritated with herself, Evelyn had tried to talk around his questions, trying to find a way to gently ease him into the subject of the prophecy, but to no avail. Their dance was almost over and all she could do was blurt out a line of the prophecy, hoping he would realize what it meant. Of course he did; she guessed the prophecy was etched as permanently on his mind as it was on hers.

Arranging an appointment to meet him in two hours had been a spontaneous decision but the best she could come up with at the time. She recalled there was a pub that worked as an entrance to the magical shopping district and neighbourhoods of London. She was almost certain Ginny had called it the Leaky Cauldron and, after Severus had assured her that, yes, he did have a safe location where they could talk about the prophecy, she had arranged to meet with him there at midnight. In something less than an hour and a half.

"What was I even thinking?" She asked herself, before flooing to the Ministry where a portkey waited to take her back to Norway. Trying to calculate exactly how many strings she'd have to pull to have a new portkey arranged for her and Ginny and soon deciding that making one herself would be a much better alternative, for security reasons if nothing else, Evelyn made her way down the half lit corridors of the Ministry. She knew an official from the Foreign Relations Office had been appointed to wait for her with a Portkey upon her arrival, but he wouldn't be in his position for an hour still; she had thought she'd have to speak to Fudge for far longer than she did and she hadn't factored Severus in her decision. In any case, she had been told that, should she need to depart earlier, she would find the Portkey assigned to her in the first office down the hall, on her right.

The fireplace that led to the Stonehold Manor was located in an isolated part of the Ministry and the offices there were sparse, reserved only for the closest co-workers of the Minister of Magic. Usually at that time of the night, the specific sector of the Ministry was empty; tonight, with two foreign Ministers and herself needing to depart via Portkey, there was one office still occupied. Evelyn could hear voices coming from the open door as she walked.

"…and I told him, of course, that I would try to work something out." A man's voice echoed in the empty hallway. "But there hasn't been a precedent of Ministry supervision at Hogwarts so, in the end, he might have to make a degree of it."

"I know Dumbledore's been talking nonsense lately," another voice, a female one, spoke, "but placing  _Umbridge_  at Hogwarts seems a cruel and…" Evelyn's appearance at the door put an end to their conversation. The room was occupied by a middle aged witch with brown hair streaked with grey and an older wizard with dark skin and a thick white beard.

"Your Highness!" The man exclaimed, rising up from his seat and approaching Evelyn. The woman followed his example but stayed back, her eyes wide as Evy walked into the room. "We weren't expecting you for an hour yet!"

"I know and I apologize for any inconvenience." Evelyn said, projecting her well practiced façade of the calm and polite princess she had cultivated since her childhood. "I found myself feeling rather taxed. I hope me using my Portkey now will not cause you trouble, Mr…?"

"Thaddeus Gaspar, at your service, your Highness." The man supplied. "And there's no inconvenience at all!" He added, excusing himself for the few moments it took him to reach for his desk and take one of the three boxes placed there; opening it, he took out a crystal statuette, an exact replica of the fountain that decorated the Ministry's dome. It was a commemoration gift for the gala, Evelyn surmised, one final touch to the lavishness of the evening. She had never liked that fountain, Evy idly thought, as the wizard approached her, tapping the statuette with his wand once before placing it on a stand by the door. "The Portkey will activate in fifteen seconds; if you'd please, your Highness?" Evy nodded and touched the statuette.

"Goodnight, Mr. Gaspar, and thank you for your assistance." She said and nodded to the wizard; she barely had the chance to see the man nod back at her before she felt the familiar tug behind her navel as the Portkey transferred her back home. Evelyn's mind barely registered her feet touching the marble floors of her home before she took off, rushing through hallways and corridors, heading for Ginny's room. It was a mercy she didn't run into any member of her family for she was convinced she'd appear half mad to them and utterly unable to hold a conversation to save her life. The crystal figurine still clasped in her left hand, Evy barged into Ginny's room without so much as knocking. A pair of lilac, startled eyes rose to meet hers; Ginny lay on the bed, reading one of the books on the basics of Mermish she had giver her. Mermish songs were very effective when sung by Sirens, Evelyn had explained, but to sing them properly, one had to know the language.

"Evy?" Ginny asked, pulling back the covers, book abandoned on the bed, as she hurried towards the startled princess. One look at her friend was all it took for her to know something had gone completely besides their plan. Evelyn was clutching something tightly in her fist, still clad in the gown she had donned for the gala. Her eyes were opened wide and her lips were parted, as if she wanted to say something but couldn't quite find the words. "Evy?" She asked again. "Are you alright?"

"I…" Evelyn mumbled, eyes slightly unfocused. "I don't know?"

"What happened?" Ginny asked, her worry intensifying. Evy shook her head and gulped, opening and closing her mouth a few times before she could find her voice again. And when she did, she seemed unable to stop. She spoke of what had happened at the ball, of her new job and meeting Severus and the meeting she had arranged for them in an hour now.

"And I'm a complete idiot, of course!" Evy exclaimed, now pacing up and down in front of the fireplace. "I mean I've been trying to come up with a calm and composed way to ease him into the subject of the prophecy and what did I do at the end?" She asked, looking at Ginny, still wide eyed. "I blurted out a line of the prophecy praying the man would guess what I spoke of! It's a miracle how we finished that dance, I swear!" She covered her eyes with her hands in exasperation, a blush clear on her face. "And I swear I stuttered like an idiot when he was only trying to bait me into speaking my mind! And then arranging a meeting as if I knew what I was doing? I'm such an idiot!"

"Well, I don't think you could have come up with a gentle way to speak to him about the prophecy, even if you had all the time in the world to prepare." Ginny offered. "And I think the meeting must have caught professor Snape just as much unawares as it did you." She shook her head and smiled, beside herself. "My, this will be quite an interesting meeting." And then she made the mistake of catching Evy's eye. A short moment of silence ensued, broken swiftly by a snort from Evy before both of them dissolved into roaring laughter.

"I don't even know what we'll say once we get there." Evy admitted, wiping a tear from her face.

"I don't know either." Ginny admitted, her expression turning confused. "And how are we getting there exactly?" She asked.

"Oh, right." Evelyn said, deciding to tackle one matter at a time. "I'm going to make something into a Portkey to my family's townhouse in London…" She looked at the statuette she was holding with some distaste, figuring it should do the trick. "Slightly illegal, I hope you don't mind." Ginny cocked an eyebrow in reply, shaking her head.

"How much time do we have before we must go?" The redhead asked.

"Forty minutes give or take." Evy answered, both their eyes widening in realization. "Pack a change of clothes and the basic essentials and take out your Sisterhood cloak; I'm going to do the same. We're either spending the night there or at my place in London." Ginny nodded and hastened to do just that. She hadn't truly unpacked yet, so the process didn't take very long. She haphazardly threw a few toiletries she had used into the small trunk she'd been totting around for the past week, along with her pajamas and the few books she had taken from Home. Redressing hastily in a pair of jeans and a Hollyhead Harpies shirt, she endeavored to lace her shoes as fast as she could before reaching for her hairbrush. Five minutes later, teeth brushed, hair untangled and green cloak fastened around her shoulders, Ginny walked out of her room in search for Evy, only to bump on her at the door.

"Ready?" Evelyn asked, grasping the doorframe for balance. She was still wearing her gown but -in the hand that wasn't clutching at the door- she held a satchel with her own clothes for the night.

"Yeah." Ginny answered. "You?" Evy sighed and pointed at her dress.

"I love the dress but it took me half an hour to put it on. It will take as much to take it off unless I tear it off with a spell. No time to change now!" Ginny nodded and walked out of the room, dragging her trunk with her. Evy pulled out her wand and tapped the crystal statuette in her hand once. "Ten seconds." She said and Ginny touched the figurine; it wasn't long till she felt the familiar pull of an activated portal. The world spun around her for a long moment and soon her feet touched wooden floors. He room around them was dark but spacious, from what Ginny could tell. "Hadn't thought this through…" Evy muttered as she pulled her wand and conjured a small cloud of bright orbs, sending them floating towards the ceiling.

"So, to the Leaky Cauldron?" Ginny asked, approaching the fireplace.

"Yes." Evy said. "Just give me a moment. Jor!" She called and a house elf appeared, bowing respectfully at her. She smiled and spoke to it swiftly in Norwegian before turning back to Ginny. "Needed somebody to extinguish the fire after we're gone." She said and pulled her hood over her face, concealing her face in its shadow. Ginny mimicked her and waited till Evy lit the fireplace, taking a bawl with floo powder from Jor the house elf. The flames glowed green and Evy stepped in first, calling out the name of her destination clearly. Ginny, taking a deep breath and wishing for the best, followed her through the flames.

At the same time, Severus was preparing to depart from Silbreith for the Leaky Cauldron. He had almost worried himself to hyperventilation from the moment Evelyn had left the ball to the moment he too could take his leave; when the French Minister had decided it was time to return, feeling quite tipsy from the night's champagne consumption, Severus had only been to glad to accompany him. Saying his goodnights, he harried towards the fireplace hall, barely registering how he had made his way back to the castle.

"Minnie!" He called for the house elf the moment he stepped into the main hall. The elf appeared immediately.

"Is master Severus back already?" She asked, regarding her master cursorily. "Is the master alright?"

"Yes, Minnie." He answered numbly. He looked at the nearest clock. Eleven o'clock; he barely had an hour to reach the Leaky Cauldron. Did I seriously agree to a clandestine meeting with a princess at midnight? He mused, shaking his head to dispel such thoughts. "Will you prepare two rooms for the night, Minnie? We'll be expecting guests within the hour." The house elf's blue eyes widened.

"Certainly, master Severus!" She exclaimed with some excitement; this summer had already seen more guests at Silbreith than the last decade put together and now two more were announced. "Would that be all?"

"Almost. Is my son awake still?" He asked.

"The young master is in the library along with misters Neville and Draco, sir." Minnie said. Severus nodded.

"Then that would be all, Minnie. Thank you." The elf bowed and disappeared to organize everything for the newcomers. Severus turned towards the stairs and sprinted to the library, trying to come up with a way to explain exactly what had happened to his son. How did one go around saying he had found the other part of the prophecy that, in many ways, had shaped their lives for over a decade? Still pondering on the best way to broach the subject, Severus walked straight into the library, halting only when he reached the table where Harry, Draco and Neville still were reading through the files he had unearthed. Had it only been that very morning he had visited the Archives? The three teens looked up as they heard him walk into the library, confused and concerned. Severus, taking in the mugs of tea on the table, guessed they hadn't as much as stepped away from the desk since he had left.

"Dad?" Harry asked, rising to meet his father. "Did something happen?"

"I don't know how to begin answering th…" And then his eyes widened as he better observed Harry's appearance. "Why is your left hand covered in feathers?" The potions master asked, causing his son to look at his arm too. The appendage looked something between a wing and an arm, dark brown feathers covering everything from where Harry had rolled up his sleeve and under.

"Oh, sorry." He muttered, his hand trembling as the feathers disappeared. "I've been practicing on my secondary animagus transformation. Trying to get used to the feeling, making sure I can do it instinctively." He fixed his shirt's sleeve so it was rolled up at his elbow as the right one. "Now, why did you run in here as if Rita Skeeter was chasing you?"

"She's not actually…" Neville hazarded, looking towards the entrance of the room in fear; from what he had seen of the reporter had been enough to theorize she would dare to do just that. Harry had told her she could carry on with her regular work as normal after all.

"She wouldn't dare." Harry assured him. He, at least,  _hoped_  she wasn't crash enough.

"No, it's just…" Severus started, trying to find the words. "It's just…"

"Yes?" Draco prompted unnerved.

"What the bloody hell did Fudge  _do_?" Neville asked.

"Not Fudge, just… give me a moment, please." The potions master asked. "I haven't recovered from that dance yet."

"What dance?" Harry mouthed, looking at his brothers in confusion. Getting two confused -and expectedly so- shrugs in return, he turned his attention back to his father; Severus had closed his eyes tight and was pinching the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply in and out.

"There's no way around it." He mumbled, Harry imagined mostly to strengthen his resolve for what he had to say than anything else. "I'll just have to… well, then." He opened his eyes and looked at his son. "Remember Morgana Le Fay's prophecy concerning us? Well,  _of course_  you do, what am I even saying?" He admonished himself before Harry had the chance to utter a single word. "I found the other two people it refers to. Or rather one of them found me, as it stands." Complete silence met his announcement.

" _What_?" Harry exclaimed finally, eyes wide, face pale, as he stumbled back and sat on the corner of the desk else he collapsed.

"Yes, I…" Severus took in a deep breath to steady himself and continued, "I -no, not I, that's not right-  _she_  run into me at the gala. The " _Sister who is not the Sister"_  she called herself and said she wanted to talk. She and her sister, whoever that is, are coming over." He said, pressing his fingers over closed eyelids. "Because I arranged to pick them up from the Leaky Cauldron in, oh, half an hour from now?" He looked at the grandfather clock at the other side of the room. "Yes, that would be correct." He mumbled to himself.

"What?" Harry asked again. Neville looked on with a dumbfounded expression on his face, a report still held in his hands while Draco looked from Harry to the potions master in rapid succession. "She simply approached you and said she knew of the prophecy? Just like that? And  _who is she_?"

"She was invited at the gala too." Severus stated. "And she knew I was the one the prophecy referred to, but she couldn't exactly say  _how_  she knew, not in the middle of the dance floor! Hence the meeting." He chuckled in complete disbelief. "And her name is Evelyn."

"Evelyn?" Harry asked. "Just that?" He felt dizzy, hand over his forehead; how was he supposed to deal with this day he was having?

"Oh, no." Severus stated, his nervous laughter resuming, even as he shook his head negatively. "Evelyn of Norway." He said, three gasps following his words. "Evelyn the actual bloody  _princess_  of Norway."

"Who?" Draco asked, voice cracking.

"You heard me!" Severus exclaimed, hands extended wide at his sides as he started pacing. "In the space of half an hour she floated into the room, socialized with Fudge, got herself hired as your new History of Magic professor…"

" _What_?" Harry exclaimed.

"Oh, yes, she did." Severus said, hands extended outwards once more, showcasing just how much he didn't know how to react at that himself. "And then we danced and she said she had been wanting to talk to me because she was one of the two women mentioned in the prophecy…" He stopped in his tracks then, looking at the three stupefied teens. "Well, she didn't use exactly those words, of course, but she made it clear who she was and she said we needed to meet somewhere more private and I agreed." He looked at his son. "I don't know what else to say." He admitted.

"Could you repeat your conversation, please?" Harry asked softly, the room spinning around him. And Severus did, as swiftly as she could.

"I see nothing else we can do than meet with them." The potions master concluded. "They may have some answers we seek and, besides, Merlin himself said they're meant to help."

"And meet them we shall." Harry offered, looking at the time.

"I should be going." Severus stated.

"We'll follow you to the fireplace," Harry said, his brothers nodding in agreement, "and wait for you there." The four wizards walked down the floors silently, stopping only once arriving at the hall. Severus pointed his wand to himself and altered his appearance the best he could, blond hair, blue eyes and a different face structure hiding his identity. He donned a long traveling cloak over his clothes, now charmed to appear like casual, deep red robes, and threw a handful of floo powder into the flames.

"I'll apparate back." The potions master said. "Just in case." The three teens nodded; no one could apparate into the grounds of Silbreith if not a member of the castle's master family. "Here goes." He muttered and moved for the fireplace, his son's hand on his arm stopping him momentarily.

"Dad?" Harry asked; Severus turned to look at him in concern. "If you're not back in five minutes I'm coming after you." He smiled slightly. "You know the drill." Severus nodded once and off he went, into the fire and to the Leaky Cauldron. He stepped out of the fireplace and into the pub, eyes searching the late night costumers, heart fluttering. The crowd at this time of the night -midnight, he repeated inwardly, Merlin, how is this happening?- was sparse, a couple of wizards at the bar and a group of witches laughing at the far corner of the room. As it stood, it was easy for him to spot the ones he was looking for. There, seated away from all the other patrons and clad in Sisterhood green, faces hidden under the shadow of their hoods, were two witches. Breathing in deeply and schooling his expression to neutrality, he walked towards them.

"Good evening." He spoke steadily, bowing his head politely in greeting. The two hooded figures started at the sound of his voice, looking at him under their hoods. One was about the height he recalled the princess being. The other one was shorter and pale, from what he could see, but that was all he could say of her. "Do excuse my appearance. I just came from a dance, you see, and I didn't have time to change." The taller figure nodded and stood up.

"Quite understandable, sir." She said, shouldering a satchel that lay on the floor beside her feet. "If you don't mind, I believe we should go. My sister and I are quite taxed from travelling." The potions master nodded, not knowing what else to say; he pointed to the back door of the pub, the one that led to the entrance to Diagon Alley. He walked out the door, the two witches following him closely. Once they were out of the pub he spoke once more.

"I don't want our destination to be overheard." He explained. "You're going to have to side-apparate." Two nods of agreement and Severus extended his left hand for them to grab, his right one holding his wand. "There are two more people where we're going, that you probably weren't expecting," the potions master cautioned them "but they're to be trusted implicitly and already know of everything."

"We…" Evelyn said and looked at Ginny who nodded once. "We had expected such a possibility." One of the two people had to be Neville, Evy had surmised. The other, perhaps, the young Malfoy? Ginny had said those two were very close to Harry and the redhead had wondered if, perhaps, they knew more than they let on. They would soon find out if she had been right in her assumption. Severus simply cocked an eyebrow, no emotional response evident on his face.

_How could they have expected such a thing?_  He wondered, ordering himself not to panic. Instead of over-thinking the situation, and convinced his son would appear within the minute did he not apparate back immediately, he did just that. The group of three landed in front of Silbreith's gates, the castle looming tall in the summer moonlight. The two witches exchanged a look - _how can they even see with those cloaks on_ , Severus wondered before the obvious answer,  _magic_ , appeared to him- and followed him up the stairs.

"My ladies, if you'd follow me." Severus said, wand pointed at himself so he could lift the glamour charms off his person. The doors of the castle parted for their master and, like so, Evy and Ginny stepped foot into the halls of Silbreith for the very first time. The potions master led them to the main hall, were three teens stood, expecting them. Silence reigned over the two unlikely groups, Severus eventually taking the role of introducing Evelyn to each other upon him. "If I may present to you, her royal highness, Evelyn of Norway." The potions master said, the woman in question stepping forward and removing her cloak.

"Nice to meet you all." Se said, smiling apologetically. The three boys in front of her were looking at her in various states of confusion. "Do forgive me for the way this meeting was arranged and, please, my name is Evelyn." She smiled at all four wizards in the room. "My friends call me Evy." She concluded.

"Evy, then." Harry said, looking at the other witch from the corner of his eyes; he understood how the princess wouldn't have time to change clothes but why hadn't the second witch removed her cloak yet? "I'm Harry." He said, head bowed politely in a curtsy. "And allow me to introduce you to…"

"Misters Draco Malfoy and Neville Longbottom, I presume?" Evy asked, shocking the four wizards into silence. Harry nodded positively. "A pleasure to meet you."

"How did you know who they are?" Severus asked, looking at Evelyn. "You said you suspected there would be more people here than me and my son," the potions master continued, taking a step closer to the princess, "but I never gave you any names."

"You didn't have to, professor." The second witch spoke finally, voice eerily familiar. So familiar, in fact, that Harry couldn't help but gasp. He knew that voice; but could it be? "I did." The witch said and divested herself of her cloak, affirming Harry's suspicions but not serving in reducing his confusion one bit. If anything, he found himself completely confounded. For right there, in front of him, standing in the middle of his home's fireplace hall and clad in Holyhead Harpies' green, was Ginny Weasley.

"Ginny?" Harry finally asked after a long moment of utter silence, his voice disbelieving; she smiled apologetically and blushed slightly as she realized four bewildered pairs of eyes were trained on her. She  _was_  Ginny, Harry concluded, watching as she bit her lower lip, a nervous trait of hers he had noticed first years ago, when a then seven year old Ginny had worked up the courage to ask Prongs if she could borrow his Nimbus 1500 for a fly around the quidditch pitch at Potter manor. Her long red hair was the same, her expressions were the same, her freckles were the same, her brown eyes were lilac… wait what?  _Lilac_?

"Hi, Harry." She said finally. "Professor Snape, Neville, Draco." She nodded to each of them, gulping once when no one answered; understandable, she figured. She straightened her shoulders before speaking again, breathing in deeply and stealing a glance at Evelyn who nodded encouragingly. "I guess you all have questions; Evy and I would be glad to answer any of them we can." Ginny offered.

"Miss Weasley?" Severus asked again, his gaze trailing from Evelyn's too blue eyes to Ginny's amethyst coloured ones and back in rapid succession, steadily making the connection. Weren't all members of the Sisterhood considered  _sisters_  to each other? "You've entered the Sisterhood, I assume?" He asked, causing Neville and Draco to gasp. Harry, who had watched his father observe the eyes of the two witches in confusion, had just made the startling connection himself a second before the potions master worded his conclusion. The magic of the Sisterhood's witches could be seen clear in their eyes, legend had it. And though legend and truth rarely coincided, here, it seemed, they did.

"I have, yes." Ginny confirmed, nodding once before pointing at her eyes. "Still getting used to the colour myself." She admitted, having correctly guessed it was her eyes, more than anything, that had helped the potions master make the connection. A green cloak could be just a green cloak but her eyes would always tell of her affiliation to the sisterhood; she wouldn't have it any other way.

"How?" Draco asked.

"When?" Neville inquired at the same time.

"So, when the prophecy spoke of a Sister who is not the Sister…" Harry trailed off, Evelyn finishing his sentence for him.

"Both Ginny and myself are members of the Sisterhood; we are, in that sense, sisters. Just not by birth." She explained.

"We're not having this conversation here." Severus stated, looking at the three boys and the newcomers.

"I suggest the library?" Harry offered. "We might need to show them…" And he trailed off again, his father nodding in agreement after a moment of silent contemplation. Evy and Ginny shared a look; show them what exactly?

"Follow me, if you'd please." Severus muttered, still somewhat disoriented. He hadn't been so confused since the aftermath of his and Harry's first meeting with Merlin. He led the way, his son by his side, followed by Ginny and Evelyn, Neville and Draco bringing up the rear. Their walk to the Library was brisk and silent, the two women taking in the sights of Silbreith as they were led through the hallways of the castle. Walking through the doors of the library once again, Severus led them to a desk on the other side of the room from were their horcrux research lay; he had agreed with Harry that they should probably share their research but not just yet. First, they would have to answer his questions to his satisfaction and provide proof of what they claimed to be. Even if the presence of Ginny Weasley had thrown him off for a few moments, he wasn't one to trust easily, especially where his son was involved.

"If you'd like to take a seat." Harry offered kindly, smiling numbly at Ginny, who accepted his offer gratefully; her legs were just about to give out on her anyway. She had known this moment was unavoidable, but how did one go around talking about a millennia old prophecy? Awkwardly, she decided, looking at the faces around the table. Very much so.

"Well," Evy spoke, trying to get the conversation going, "would you like us to explain how we came to know of the prophecy or do you have something specific on your mind you'd like to ask first?" Harry and Severus shared a glance and a nod.

"Just one question first." Harry said, taking one more measure of precaution. "On your first year," he spoke to Ginny, "before you were taken to the Chamber of Secrets, you came to me at the Gryffindor table; could you reiterate that conversation?"

"Making sure I'm me?" Ginny asked, throwing Harry a rueful smile. He shrugged unrepentantly; Ginny's smile widened. Precautions were a good thing at this time and age.

"You said I looked tired and troubled and asked me what was wrong; I wanted to tell you about Riddle's diary. You said I knew you and Adrian practically since our infancy, that I could trust you." She cocked an eyebrow at the memory, wondering for the umpteenth time what would have happened had she spoken to someone of the diary sooner; nothing she could do now, she chastised herself. "I was about to tell you everything when Percy interrupted us and I bolted." She grimaced at her reaction but Harry nodded, satisfied with her answer.

"Had to be certain." He said, smiling a little wider, a little more honestly. Ginny nodded.

"Yes, you had," she agreed. "And before we carry on, there's something I've been meaning to tell you since the end of my first year." Ginny said, her smile gone, looking completely serious. "You saved my life that day in the Chamber and I never got to thank you." She said; Harry's eyes widened in shock.

"You knew it was me?" He asked, as all four wizards turned their gazes on her once more; she felt herself blushing again under their scrutiny but didn't break eye contact with Harry; thanking him for saving her life had been something she had wanted to do for years and, by Morgana, she would do it right! "You knew, yet said nothing?" Severus cocked his head slightly to the left waiting for her answer.

"I saw you, that day in the Chamber." Ginny admitted. "I was shocked and confused but even then I knew you mustn't have said you were the one who had faced the basilisk for a reason. And, Harry, you had just saved my life." She shrugged. "It was your secret to keep or share not mine; I swore to myself not to tell and never ask and just be grateful. But now that I have the chance…" She smiled again, wider and freer this time. "Now that I have the chance I'd like to say it; thank you, Harry." Harry, on his part, looked at her thunderstruck; he still wasn't used to being thanked for what he had done, mostly because so very few people knew exactly how he had protected them from the shadows for so long. The only one that had ever expressed such sentiment towards him, outside his family, had ever been…  _Ginny_ , he realized, even more startled, remembering how the girl had approached him two years ago, thanking him for saving her brother's life during the Pettigrew incident. He smiled brightly at her.

"You're welcome, Ginny." The girl nodded, returning the smile.

"And before we start," Evy said, smiling proudly at her sister and aiming to lighten the mood slightly, "just give me a moment to…" She bent down and took of her high heels, holding them in her hands and looking at them contemplatively. "Much better." She mumbled to herself, stretching her legs slightly. The four wizards looked at her in astonishment. "What?" Evy asked, shrugging once. "Try dancing and running from one country to the other in a pair of these," she said, the shoes dangling from her fingers, "and  _then_  come talk to me! Silly shoes…" She muttered.

"Still, pretty shoes." Ginny pointed out. Evy nodded in agreement.

"All brawn no brain shoes?" The princess concluded, locking eyes with her, for all intents and purposes, sister for a moment before both women started laughing. The four wizards on the other side of the table shared a confused and slightly concerned look.

"Ah, well…" Severus uttered, not quite knowing what to make of that exchange. "I believe we're ready to hear of your part of the story." The two witches looked at each other and nodded.

"We will tell you everything we can but, please, bear in mind that we have taken an oath; we can not speak of the Sisterhood." Severus cocked an eyebrow at that proclamation, prompting Evy to elaborate. "We learned of the prophecy  _after_  Ginny was initiated; our oaths prevent us from sharing certain information for the Sisterhood. Think of the oath as the Fidelius; even if we weren't committed in protecting our order, we wouldn't be able to share details about it. The prophecy is another matter entirely, but, because of our oaths, we can't tell you  _where_  we heard it, for example." All four wizards nodded in understanding.

"But you won't withhold information related to your knowledge of the prophecy itself." Severus said. It was not a question; simply a statement of how he expected the conversation to unfold.

"When Morgana Le Fay appears to you in a mirror to tell you of a prophecy that concerns you and urges you to search the other people that prophecy includes, you do just that. What's the point of withholding any information when it's probably you that hold more answers than we do?" Evelyn asked. Severus nodded, conceding to that logic. And so Evy started talking of how their meeting with Morgana had gone, Ginny adding a few details here and there, concerning how she had deduced the prophecy concerned Harry and Severus too.

It didn't take long for the Pensive to be brought into the room -along with some tea, courtesy of Minnie- as memories were exchanged for the next couple of hours. Both witches willingly accepted to be subjected to Legillimency, the potions master spending over an hour ascertaining they had no ulterior motives; they even offered to be questioned under Veritaserum, was it deemed necessary. The potions master had shook his head negatively at that; there was no need to submit them to the side effects of such a toxic potion as Veritaserum only to hear the same things he had seen in their minds and memories.

"So, you knew of the prophecy since you were seven?" Ginny asked Harry, her head swimming from everything she had just seen and heard; alchemy and fights against Voldemort and Horcruxes -Morgana have mercy on us all!- more prophecies, castles and all that hiding with nobody being the wiser. She had never thought that being brought up to speed with what the prophecy entailed would uncover so much!

"Yes, basically." Harry said, rubbing circles on his temples.

"But…" Evy looked at the green eyed wizard and then at his father. "How do you think we're meant to help?" She shared a look with Ginny, one that conveyed all their confusion. Harry was an extraordinary wizard, she had realized, and she would be honored to help him, even if there wasn't a prophecy that dictated she was meant to do so; Voldemort, after all, hadn't stopped his attempts at domination at his country's borders and she couldn't see him doing that now that he was back again.

"That, of course, depends." Severus offered.

"On what?" Ginny asked.

"The prophecy speaks of  _the one who Sees and her sister who is not her sister, the keeper of magic that is old_." The potions master explained. "The one who sees what? Every witch of the Sisterhood has a specific magical gift, that much is common knowledge; will those gifts of yours be able to help us?"

"Can you even talk about your gifts?" Neville asked.

"We can tell you what our gifts are, for they were around before the Sisterhood was founded." Evelyn answered. "We can't tell you how we train for them, we can't tell you where we train for them." She explained. "We can tell you nothing of the Sisterhood's inner structure or speak of the gifts of other members. And, even though we are allowed to use our gifts in our personal lives, we can't use them in case of a war. Don't even ask about the eyes." She concluded with a wry smirk.

"The Sisterhood does not intervene in any war unless provoked." Severus recited one of the few known facts about Morgana's Order.

"Exactly." Ginny stated. "And by provoked, we mean directly attacked." In the face of their limitations, Harry smirked.

"I know that look." Draco stated, eyes widening as he pointed at his brother.

"What look?" Neville asked looking at Harry himself. "Ah,  _that_  look."

"And what does that look mean?" Evy wondered out loud.

"Usually that he's up to something." Severus explained, looking at his son expectantly.

"Didn't you say that imbeciles have their uses, Dad?" Harry asked looking at the potions master. Ginny was thrown for a loop as Severus nodded, still not completely able to digest the torrent of information she had received.

"Referring to the Ministry, yes." Severus agreed.

"I'm referring to the Ministry too." Harry stated. "Thanks to Fudge, we don't have a war in our hands yet." He explained and looked at the two witches across the table. "What if you use your gifts to help us  _before_  the war starts? Will that cause you any trouble?" Evy and Ginny shared a smirk.

"If you must know, Mr. Potter, the members of the Sisterhood are encouraged to hone their gifts." Evy said. "Helping a friend in need, in times of peace, is a completely acceptable way to do just that."

"Apparently we still have peace." Severus stated.

"And we are in need, let's not forget that." Draco offered.

"Well then, we might help you yet." Ginny stated, smiling widely.

"Sorry for interrupting," Neville offered, brow furrowed in thought, "but what are your gifts exactly?" The rest of the witches and wizards on the room looked at each other in shock.

"We didn't quite get around to explaining that, did we?" Ginny asked.

"No." Evy agreed, the corners of her lips lifting up in mirth. "We did not." She pointed at herself. "Primarily, I'm an Oracle." She said; Severus' eyes widened; he had heard of such a gift, but thought it long past extinct. Well,  _magic that is old_  indeed, he mused.

"So, you're the one who Sees." The potions master said; Evy nodded.

"Ehm, do excuse me," Draco interrupted, "but what exactly  _is_  an Oracle?"

"A glorified Sheer, basically." Evelyn quipped, before elaborating further.

"I can definitely see how such I gift might help us." Harry stated, thinking how helpful skrying alone could prove to be, even without the possibility of visions of the future. "No pun intended." He added thinking of his exact wording.

"I second that." Severus agreed. "Even if you have to stop helping us once war is upon us, just thinking of the possibilities…" He looked at Evy, smiling kindly. "It's going to be a pleasure, having you with us."

"It's going to be a pleasure being here." She responded.

"Even if it means putting yourself in danger?" The potions master asked; he would more than welcome her help but he wouldn't allow her to simply step into this blindly. He needed to trust her not to run the moment things got rough and soon they would; she would become a target, should her involvement be known. And, if he wanted to be honest with himself, he also wanted to know what made her offer her help so willingly. A prophecy? Even if it had been made by Morgana herself, was it an incentive strong enough to risk everything for a cause not her own?

"You know, many people forget that Voldemort has supporters across the borders too; I lost an Aunt and an Uncle during the war." She explained; the potions master frowned for a few moments, his eyes turning sad as he recalled reading about the story, buried under the memories of his own loses; it had been a few days after the fall of Voldemort, amidst the chaos his disappearance had created, when his supporters were still in disbelief of their master's defeat. His Death Eaters had tried recruiting new people from across the borders when their armies in Britain scattered. They didn't expect volunteers; they tried terrorizing people into entering their lines.

Murdering the younger brother of the King and his wife had been perceived to be a good method to pass their message.  _Nobody is safe_ , that murder screamed.  _Join us or die_. It had been all for naught. The main body of the Dark Lord's followers in Britain dispersed and, with nobody to guide them, his forces across the borders scattered too. The damage had already been done during those few days of confusion, the death toll high in countries all over Europe. Ginny smiled sadly at her sister, holding her hand, trying to comfort her. "I want to help." Evelyn stated, her voice steady. The potions master nodded in understanding.

"May I ask you something, Evy?" Neville said, breaking the silence.

"Of course you can, Mr. Longbottom." She answered.

"If I can call you Evy, you can call me Neville." The teen stated, eyes widening at the formal title. "You said that you're an Oracle  _primarily_?" That promptly got the attention back to the previous conversation. Evy nodded affirmative.

"It's not entirely uncommon for a member of the Sisterhood to have more than one gifts." She explained. "I'm also a Siren." She stated, Severus cocking an eyebrow at her proclamation; she had heard myths of Sirens, mostly connected with the merpeople. But if that gift was what he thought it was, he could think of a couple of uses for it. The problem was that all of them involved a situation one would find mid-war; still, he tacked those thoughts away for further consideration and listened instead to Evy explaining exactly what a Siren was.

"I though that was an ability solely manifested in merpeople?" Harry had asked, his academic curiosity emerging momentarily as he voiced his father's thoughts. Evelyn proceeded to explain that, though many among the merpeople had a version of that gift, it also appeared in the witches of the Sisterhood.

"And what of you, Ginny?" Harry asked, shaking his head in astonishment; he had had a lot of hard days in his life, many happy ones and some exciting beyond belief, but he couldn't remember having a more dizzying day than this.

"I too am a Siren, in part." She stated.

"So, you have a secondary gift too?" Draco asked.

"Yes." She said nodding. "In the Sisterhood we call witches with my ability Tamers." She said and proceeded to explain what the term meant.

"That's why you had your hands clasped over your mouth at the First Task!" Neville exclaimed suddenly, shocking everyone in proximity.

"Yes, that was why." Ginny agreed with a startled smile.

"You know, at the time, I thought you were scared you'd lose your breakfast if you opened your mouth." Neville stated with a half smile. "I know I was feeling like I would."

"Don't remind me." Draco muttered, paling noticeably at the mere memory of the Horntail while Severus nodded emphatically.

"I won't even comment on that." Harry stated, shaking his head amused with his family's antics.

"Well, that too," Ginny admitted, "but I was mostly terrified I'd open my mouth, say the wrong thing and, factoring my luck, insult the dragon to such a degree she'd start tearing everything apart." She winced at the thought, before chuckling. "So, I wisely decided to put sock in it and pray silently along with the rest of the school body."

"And that's it." Evelyn said, looking at the four wizards. "Any idea  _how_  our gifts might help you?" She asked.

"If only prophecies were guidelines." Severus muttered contemplatively.

"I guess you'll just have to stick around then?" Harry offered, shrugging. "We sure need some help with all the…" He trailed off and pointed at the piles upon piles of documents on the desk across the room.

"I guess since  _that_  cat is out of the bag," the potions master agreed, rubbing his eyes tiredly, "we can use all the help we can get."

"And considering the Fates practically sent you for help…" Neville interjected, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Ah, yes, I can see it clearly now." Evy stated, nodding sagely, her gaze trailed at the stained glass at the far end of the library. It was with some trepidation that the five other people in the room held their breaths, looking at her serious expression. "The Fates sent us here to help you with the paperwork." She proclaimed solemnly and rose from her seat, walking towards said paperwork with determination. For a second, all that was heard in the room was the shuffling of Evy's dress on the plush carpet of the library. It was Harry who broke the silence with a confused;

"Huh?" Then Severus smirked and Draco let his head fall on the desk with and audible thud.

"I can't believe I fell for that." He muttered, finally sending the four people still seated around the desk into peals of laughter. With her back still turned to the five laughing people, Evy allowed herself a smile too, finally feeling the vestiges of tension that had gripped them all abate. Trust wouldn't come instantaneously, she knew. But she was willing to do everything she could to make this easier for all of them; they had been thrust together by Fate, prophesized to join powers, to work together to do what? Rid the world of Voldemort? That seemed to be the obvious reason why, even if the prophecy -at least the one that concerned all four of them- made no reference of it. Why was that, she wondered, when the second prophecy Severus and Harry had shown them in the Pensive was so clear on that subject? She did not know and found no point in wondering about it at the moment. Prophecies had a way of explaining themselves out in the end, one way or another. Grimacing at that thought and hoping they'd like the way their prophecy turned out; she promised to herself there and then, not to take the outcome standing down in case they didn't.

She sat down at the desk and looked at the documents in front of her with a healthy dose of apprehension. She had heard of what they were researching for, but it was admittedly hard to grasp the concept. Mutilating a soul like that… It wasn't just abnormal, it was, without a doubt, insane. She shook her head and sighed, looking over her shoulder at the still laughing group.

"So, are you going to help or not?" Evy asked, cocking an eyebrow at them. Harry was the one to move first, shaking his head and rolling his eyes in turn as he approached her. In all the times he had thought of the second half of Morgana's prophecy -mostly before his first year at Hogwarts when things were slightly simpler in his life- he had tried to come up with ideas of who the two "Sisters" could be. Somehow he had never thought the answer to his question would be Ginny Weasley and a Norwegian princess. Taking his seat next to said Norwegian princess, he waited for the rest of the group to gather.

"This is weird." Neville commented, looking at the two newcomers. Evy smiled apologetically while Ginny shrugged. "No offence." He hastened to add.

"We know we're weird so it's alright." The redhead stated matter-of-factly, Evy nodding emphatically as the wizards of the group chuckled, their collective mood lightening even more.

"I understand it's a bit weird though, having us around." Evelyn said, looking mostly at Harry, knowing that this would be primarily his and Severus' decision. "I think I speak for both of us," she carried on, "when I say that we could sit this one out." It was Ginny's turn to nod.

"It's quite sudden after all and Evy's right; we won't mind if you need time to get used to this." She shrugged once again. "Morgana knows I'm still half-expecting to wake up any moment now."

"Are you trying to spare yourself the effort of going through all these documents, Miss Weasley?" Harry asked, cocking an eyebrow as he pointed at the stacks upon stacks of paper and the piles of books even remotely relevant to Horcruxes they had dug up, currently spread around the desk, on the floor.

"Why, yes, that's it exactly, Mr. Potter." She deadpanned, smiling widely.

"We always knew that there were two more people meant to help us see the prophecy to its end." Severus said, speaking calmly, considering his words; did he trust the witches in front of him implicitly? After years of caution, the answer was "no". But he had seen into their minds and Merlin himself had asked him to trust them. Would it take time to do so? Yes, it would. But he very well knew it was time he couldn't spend seating idle; there was much to be done and they could use the help. He had already seen their intentions in their minds, he could trust that they wanted to help; and, judging from the impenetrable walls he had discovered in their minds, wrapped around anything related to the Sisterhood, walls that could only be their oaths, he knew that, should it come to war, even without the prophecy, they would never fight at the side of Voldemort. The potions master could identify powerful magic when he encountered it and the Sisterhood's oath was exactly that; powerful and ancient and binding.

"That means you won't escape the paperwork, so there." Neville stated, smirking impishly.

"Can't blame a woman for trying…" Evy muttered, smiling softly. "So," she said, pointing at the documents in front of her, "how are we doing this? Should I just grab a file and start reading?"

"Basically…" Neville muttered, glowering at the piles.

"The ones to the left are from the goblin archives." Harry explained. "The ones to the right," he continued and pointed at the relevant files, "are from the Ministry of Magic."

"The books on the floor are everything we could gather on Horcruxes." Severus added. "Everything that remotely mentions Horcruxes, to be exact." He clarified.

"Well then." Ginny said, serving everyone some tea. "I wasn't planning on sleeping anyway."

"You should though." Severus advised, knowing fully well that it was unlikely he would take his own advice.

"With all due respect professor," the redhead said, grimacing slightly as she picked up the first folder she could reach, "tomorrow is the day I promised Charlie I'd tell my mother I joined the Sisterhood; just thinking about  _that_  will keep me up at night." She admitted. "If anything, at least I can try to be useful." As she received three commiserating nods from the other teens in the room, Ginny caught herself thinking of the last firecall she had had with Charlie; even if her brother had tried his best to be understanding of what he perceived to be some vague initiation process of the Sisterhood that was keeping her away, he had drawn the line on the day they were to return to the Burrow.

Their parents had to be informed, he insisted, and even the Sisterhood couldn't possibly consider it seemly to keep an almost fourteen year old girl from her family. Succumbing to the guilt trip Charlie had gladly dished out and acknowledging the need to speak to her parents -even if she'd happily procrastinate for as long as she could, her mother's wrath was not to be taken lightly- she had agreed to return to Burrow alongside her brother, thinking that having someone who already knew of the Sisterhood with her might sweeten the draught a bit. Still, she was terrified.

"We're sure to find something you can help with." Harry stated and handed Ginny the first file he could get his hands on. "Just so you know," he added looking at both witches, "we've had two rooms prepared for you, should you need them; you can stay for as long as you want."

"You didn't have to-" Evy said, Severus immediately interrupting her, raising a hand in protest.

"If you're to help, it only makes sense you remained within the premises." And then he promptly smirked at her. "I also suspect you might need to change out of that dress eventually." He shrugged as Evy's eyes narrowed. "I admittedly have limited knowledge on the everyday life of princesses but I'd bet my best cauldron you don't go through everyday dressed in gowns."

"No, I, at least, don't." She answered with feigned, exaggerated, dignified poise, muttering something about stereotypes even as the corners of her lips twitched upwards. "In that case, thank you, my Lord." The potions master grimaced at the title.

"Severus." He stated. "My name is Severus, none of that "my Lord Snape" business here, if you'd please."

"Sure." Evy said, smiling widely. "As long as I don't hear a "your Highness" aimed my way." The potions master smirked and nodded, pointing at a file he thought of interest, as it contained the correspondence between Gringotts and the Head of the Gaunt family sometime in the early nineteenth century.

The next four hours progressed in a steady pattern. Files were read and notes were kept and compared; ideas were exchanged, intermixed with bouts of conversation, whether it concerned the Horcrux hunt in itself or some more details that they hadn't been able to share during their previous talk and memory viewing. Those bouts of conversation varied from;

"And her animagus form really is a water bug? Fitting." To;

"You really bought a second castle? And paid for it with mithril? Huh." It was only two hours after the sun had risen and a generous amount of coffee later that Minnie made her appearance to ask about what they would like for breakfast, looking at her masters judgingly and clearly fighting with her instincts to point them to their rooms for some much needed rest that they decided to stop for a while.

Ginny and Evy would head to the Burrow immediately, after the later, finally, changed from her dress to a pair of jeans and a simple, charcoal shirt with a dragon pattern, cocking an eyebrow at the potions master when she saw him, making him chuckle. Severus would head to the Headquarters for the first official meeting of the Order while Harry, Neville and Draco would ride towards Orbein to oversee the reconstruction efforts. It was agreed that they would meet back at Silbreith in the afternoon to regroup.

There were six completely exhausted witches and wizards that returned to the castle that afternoon. Severus was the one who returned first, the meeting having mostly consisted of meeting the new members of the Order and exchanging information concerning Voldemort's most likely current whereabouts. The general consensus was that he alternated staying at the houses of his supporters, for the time being. As it was, they were unable to raid any of said houses, most of them belonging to prominent magical families of the country.

Albus had also pulled Severus and Minerva aside to inform them of a missive he had received from the Ministry early in that morning; the Minister more or less ordered Binns to be replaced immediately, stating that Evelyn would be the one taking over teaching History of Magic. Had the Headmaster expected some indignation from either the potions master or the Transfiguration professor, he was sorely disappointed. Apparently, Minerva, who was teaching the Ancient Magic course herself, had petitioned to have Binns removed in the past and had read some of Evy's articles; she had found them impeccable. Severus had simply pointed out how he had little to no memories of what he had been taught in Binns classes, having spent most of his time there half asleep.

Evelyn and Ginny returned next, one of Silbreith's house elves having picked them up from the Burrow. They both looked a bit worse for wear, but Ginny admitted things could have been much worse than they were. Both her parents had been shocked but Evy had tried her best to act as mediator. It was a lucky happenstance that Molly and Arthur had to leave for the Headquarters for the meeting. After Evelyn had explained that Ginny could continue with her studies absolutely as she had before and hinted at the added security being in the Sisterhood provided the, up to that moment, panicky Molly had hugged her, realizing what that meant for her daughter during the war.

Fred and George had looked at her stupefied for the first hour or so before starting cracking jokes and trying to charm Evy with their antics. Ron had hugged her and whispered how glad he was she'd be safe during the war, leaving for his room soon after and not returning until it was time for her parents to head to the Headquarters, where he followed them to visit Adrian. Both her parents had hugged her and urged her to wait until they returned with Bill after what in front of Evy they referred to as their "pressing appointment". They had done just that, managing to leave only after lunch, citing some loose ends with Ginny's initiation.

From the Burrow they had gone to Evelyn's apartment at London, gathering a few more necessities and informing her family of their current location. Evelyn had also found it prudent to inform her lawyers of her having accepted the position as the new History of Magic professor at Hogwarts, both her and her legal representatives having received similar -if exponentially more civil than the one sent to the Headmaster- missives from Fudge. Harry and his brothers had returned last, looking utterly exhausted; Harry was running his fingers through his already tousled raven locks, muttering to himself as Neville nodded diligently at his side, Draco murmuring his agreement as he stumbled over his own feet.

"I suppose not all's quiet on the western front?" Severus asked from where he had collapsed on a chair at the kitchen table, across Ginny and Evelyn; both witches appeared halfway asleep already, barely raising their heads to glance at the tree wizards. Harry shook his head and plopped next to his father, letting his head fall on the table.

"Ouch." He muttered, his voice coming out muffled.

"That good?" Severus asked, rubbing his eyes open.

"Remember that rather large pond by the village? And the large gash that we found cutting the hide part of the village in half, the one we thought was made by an earthquake?" Harry asked, grabbing one of the sandwiches Minnie had placed on the centre of the table. The potions master's brow furrowed as his mind sluggishly brought up the image of the body of water by the river and said moat-like gash, nodding in affirmative.

"Yes." He stated. "Why?"

"There's more to the village than what we thought." Harry said tiredly, raising his head to look at his father. "It's just under the pond."

"Ouch indeed." Ginny said, looking a little more awake.

"The creek that we passed over at the woods, the one that ends at Silbreith's lake?" Neville explained, carrying on from where his tired brother had trailed off. "It normally passed through the village. It was the creek's bed we saw."

"There was an earthquake once, we were spot on at that." Draco concluded. "Some of the houses built on each side of the creek collapsed into the river bed and blocked it, causing it to pool and change course. Now its eating away at the foundations of the houses remaining, more and more collapsing over time."

"In conclusion, the pond must be dried and the stream diverted back to its original bed so that reconstruction may begin." Harry said. "The goblins said something about a bridge too, but at that point I was simply nodding in agreement at everything. The pipeline installation will have to be delayed for as long as the pond is being dried. I gave orders to carry on as soon as possible but… Ugh, from all the things that could have happened!"

"As long as it's nothing irreparable." Severus stated and sighed. "We have some time still; Voldemort seems to be keeping to the shadows for now." Harry nodded, returning the sigh heartily.  
The next days found the unlikely group in the library of Silbreith, going through the files and waiting tensely for whatever Skeeter would uncover. When the day of the appointment finally arrived, Harry, Neville and Draco prepared to head to the Leaky Cauldron once more, sporting different disguises for added protection. Both Draco and Neville seemed to be handling the concealment charms splendidly, Ginny keeping notes as Harry corrected and added to their spellwork. The appointment lasted far less than the last one, Harry feeling the briefcase with the reporter's research heavy in his arms.

"I hope your research was fruitful?" Harry asked after exchanging the customary pleasantries, looking at the reporter cursorily through newly grey eyes. The woman had pushed the briefcase she had placed on the floor next to her feet towards him, nodding; Harry felt as if he had found himself in bad detective novel.

"It was indeed!" Skeeter answered, her demeanor less frigid than the last time. She still appeared healthily afraid of Harry, he nodded pleasantly, but, if he had to guess, the teen would say that she had enjoyed her task more than she had thought she would. "The Crawfords, oh what _haven't_  they done?" She asked conspiratorially. "And the Gaunts? Absolute disgrace!" She added and Harry swore his heart skipped a few beats. He let her carry on for a while longer, prattling on about the various families she had researched inside the safety of the protective charms he had placed as not to attract her attention to the name Gaunt.

"Good." Harry finally spoke. "Very good, Miss Skeeter."

"Why thank you, Mr. H!" She exclaimed, a self-satisfied smile on her lips.

"I may need a, let's call it follow-up to this research of yours." He said, watching her eyes light up in expectance. He could use that attitude for his gain, the green eyed wizard mused. "Not right now, of course… You may receive on other note soon, however." He rose and shook her hand. "In any case, we will be in touch." Returning to Silbreith was a matter of seconds after saying his goodbyes. Neville and Draco met with the rest of them at the library in a matter of minutes, having arrived to the Leaky Cauldron together and waited until Skeeter had left before departing.

"So?" Draco asked, looking at the papers in Harry's hands, lifting the spells on his appearance even as he walked towards his brother. "What did she find?"

"Don't know yet." Harry stated; the files he had in his hands included everything, from financial records to rumors and all there was in between. "From what I can tell, all Gaunts were known for their volatile temper. If the shoe fits…" He muttered, his brothers seating around the desk; Harry handed all five of them a part of the file, he himself keeping fifteen or so pages to go through. An hour later, Harry had to agree that Skeeter, despite her rather unfortunate character, was good at what she did and painstakingly thorough. The whole history of the Gaunt line lay in front of him on the table, leaving almost no room for speculation. And, for the first time since the end of June, Harry felt as if he finally had something solid, a starting point.

"Marvolo Gaunt." Severus read out loud, reaching the last two known male descendants of the Gaunt line. "Father of Morfin and Merope Gaunt."  
" _Marvolo_  Gaunt?" Harry asked, intoning the man's name. If he had any doubts of Voldemort being a descendant of the Gaunt line before, he could feel them dissipating now.

"As in Tom Marvolo Riddle?" Ginny asked, her fingers tightening on the file she was holding.

"That's Voldemort's given name, is it not?" Evelyn asked, making sure she remembered correctly -not that she was likely to forget that name- despite the recent barrage of information. Four affirmative nods were her answer as Severus carried on.

"Marvolo Gaunt died in 1927." The potions master stated and flipped the page. "Morfin Gaunt was incarcerated in Azkaban twice; the first time for use of illegal magic on muggles as well as assault on a Ministry official by the name of Robert Tiberius Ogden, head of the Magical Law Enforcement Squad from 1914 to 1937. He was incarcerated in 1925 and released in 1928. The second time…" He paused and rose from his seat, pacing back and forth by the desk as his ever-widening eyes perused the document at hand.

"The second time?" Neville prompted with bated breath.

"The second time he was given a life sentence for the murder of Thomas, Mary and Tom Riddle, muggles, in their home at the village of Little Hangletton." Severus said, looking from the official document in his hands to the five stunned people staring back at him.

" _What_?" Harry asked, eyes bulging. Ginny covered her mouth with her hands, Evy blinked owlishly while Neville and Draco exchanged a confused gaze, mouths slack.

"That's what it says, look!" Severus exclaimed, walking towards his son and placing the file in his hands on the desk.

"He used the killing curse." Harry read out loud. "He confessed to the murders, saying it was revenge for his sister, Merope, who Tom Riddle seduced and abandoned."

"When was that?" Draco asked, having stood up to look at the document over his brother's shoulder.

" 21st of August, 1943" Harry stated. "Voldemort was still at Hogwarts at the time. It must have been right after his sixth ye… oh." He cocked an eyebrow and looked at his father. "He had already made the diary Horcrux by that time."

"You think he might have killed his father's family and made a Horcrux out of their deaths too?" Severus asked.

"I don't know about the Horcrux part but he  _did_  murder his father; he said so himself last June." Harry reminded them.

"He what?" Evelyn, who hadn't heard that part of the happenings during the Third Task inquired, a horrified expression on her face.

"He did." Harry confirmed. "He used his father's bones in the blood ritual he employed to recreate his body. His muggle father had his use, he said, or something of the sort."

"But if he murdered his father and his grandparents died the same day as he did," Draco said, pointing at the dates on the document, "why did Morfin confess? Did he want to protect his nephew?"

"Or Voldemort made him believe he had killed them." Evy suggested after a sort moment of silence, causing the attention of their group to shift to her. "No, think about it for a moment; if he did kill his father and his grandparents, Voldemort would have wanted to make sure he would get away with it. And there is Morfin, who has already served time for assaulting the same muggles before. If he was capable of murder, wouldn't you think him capable of altering his uncle's memories?" Harry nodded in agreement.

"And, since Morfin confessed, there was no reason to use Legilimency on him." The green eyed wizard added. "Even in the case Veritasserum was used, Morfin would repeat what his mind perceived as the truth."

"And what about the possibility of making a Horcrux with their deaths?" Ginny asked. "Do you think he would have tried something like that so soon after the diary?"

"He couldn't have gotten hold of the Locket or the Cup at that time." Neville pointed out.

"Maybe we could ask Morfin himself?" Draco wondered. "Is he even alive?"

"No." Severus said, reading a bit further down. "Died in prison two decades ago. Azkaban tends to significantly lower ones life expectancy."

"Wonderful." Harry commented, hands raised in surrender. "Just wonderful."

"The Gaunts lived in Little Hangleton too." Ginny stated a few moments later, looking at the documents Harry had handed her, pointing out their address according to Robert Ogden's report.

"Would there be any merit in visiting the place?" Harry asked. Severus was the one who answered.

"If anything, we may be able to discover something more about his mother; all we know is she disappeared in 1926, right after her brother was incarcerated." The potions master said. "Little Hangleton is a small place; story like that? The people who lived it and are alive today will probably still talk about it."

"Ah, the powers of gossip." Neville stated, smiling wryly.

"Voldemort's father did return to the village after abandoning Merope." Harry pointed out. "He must have told some sort of story to explain why he left town with her and returned without her."

"We could make the journey there, I suppose." Severus pondered, running a hand through his hair. "I think it should be safe enough."

"Well then." Harry said, looking at the papers in front of him. "I have a few pages left to read and it's only," he looked at the clock, "twelve-thirty. We could go after dinner."

"You want to go today?" The potions master asked, even if he could already discern the logic behind such a decision. The Locket had been seating in its box for almost two weeks already and the summer was coming to an end; they would have to destroy it -and carry out an interrogation of sorts, Merlin help them- before the first of September. They couldn't waste their time now that they finally had a trail to follow.

"No time like the present." Harry stated.

"Today it is then." The potions master agreed. They spent the remaining hour exchanging the few pieces of information they uncovered in what was left of Skeeter's notes on the family. Apparently the Gaunts had bankrupted over a century before Marvolo was born, the once powerful family living in poverty. Jotting the address of Riddle manor down, Harry followed his family and the two witches to the kitchen for a quick dinner. An overjoyed Minnie made sure to serve everybody generously while Severus made quick use of a bottle of Butterbeer to create their portkey to Little Hangleton. Decked in disillusionment charms in order to make the journey to the village unseen, the group of six departed from Silbreith a little after two.

Harry looked around at the field they had just landed on. Quite anticlimactic, he thought to himself, observing the rolling hills in the distance where the small village of Little Hangleton lay. It didn't differ from the other little villages of the English countryside in any discernable way and would have made no lasting impression to those unaware of it being the birthplace of Lord Voldemort's parents. There was also a great probability those individuals didn't number more than eight -if one added Albus Dumbledore and Voldemort himself to his present company- and Harry could name all of them.

It was this seemingly insignificant village the group of six set towards; finding the information they were seeking was, surprisingly, for once, easy. Severus had had the marvelous idea to ask whether they could be pointed to an establishment that would provide them with information about the local life and the history of the village. The old man he had asked -the local baker- had laughed the idea of a museum of any sorts off and had pointed them towards a different establishment altogether; the village's teashop.

"Anything worth mentioning regarding this village," the man had said, "you'll learn there, rest assured." And he had chuckled as they left, muttering to himself the words "museum" and "city people" over and over, further amusing himself.

Surprisingly, once again, the man had been correct in his assumption; the teashop had wounded up being a veritable well of information. Or not quite surprisingly, as the community of Little Hangleton had been shocked by the happenings at the Riddle House once again after over half a decade from the mysterious deaths of the Riddle family. The house's caretaker, they found out, had been found dead on the grounds, just like the family he once served.

"It was him who'd done it, you can not convince me otherwise!" Mrs. Drover, an old lady of eighty-odd springs had insisted when Severus had mentioned having heard of the man's death from a friend who was passing by the village last summer. "I remember the day as if it was yesterday!" She insisted, charmed by the potions master's gentle prompting for her to continue with the story. Mrs. Lloyd and Mrs. Thomson, her friends since childhood -if one believed what they told Evy, the later being the owner of the teashop the now were at- nodded their agreement vehemently.

"Frightening it was, do tell them Adelaide!" Mrs. Lloyd urged Mrs. Drover on, serving everyone a second cup of tea.

"It happened fifteen years after young Tom Riddle came back to the village without that poor creature he had run off with…"

"The Gaunt girl you know," Mrs. Lloyd interjected, her pale blue eyes sparkling at the thrill of the story, "Mary was her name, I think, or Myrtle… One forgets names after all those years!"

"No, it was an odd name, I'm sure." Mrs. Thomson countered. "The whole family had odd names like that. Merope, I think it was."

"Why yes, that's about right!" Adelaide Drover exclaimed. "Merope Gaunt, poor little thing. As scrawny and dull as her surname, I fear." And she shook her head solemnly, even as the pink hue on her cheeks belayed her enthusiasm on having found a new and interested audience for her gossiping.

"And she had run off with the son of the Riddle family you say?" Harry asked, drinking some of his tea despite how scalding hot it still was, even if only to have something to do with his hands instead of fidgeting. Looking around he could see his family and the two newfound members of their patchwork group staring at her enthralled, waiting for an answer.

"Caused a proper outcry around the village it did!" Mrs. Drover stated, nodding. "He was engaged at the time, you understand, with young Cecilia Rivers; she married some merchant from Scarborough and went to live up north, not a few months after Tom left."

"So Tom Riddle," Severus asked, finding the name strange to utter in a conversation with a snow haired, octogenarian Muggle lady, even if it referred to Voldemort's father and not the Dark Lord himself, "never married?"

"Some say he married the Gaunt girl when they ran away." Mrs. Thomson said. "But he returned alone, saying she had entrapped him, duped him. And he remained unmarried 'till he died." She shook her head regretfully. "What a pity! Such a handsome man he was too, if a bit arrogant, God rest his soul!"

"They were all snobbish, them Riddles." Mrs. Lloyd stage whispered, as if she was afraid of being overheard. "Filthy rich too. Old Mrs. Riddle didn't like it much, how her son ran away with that poor girl."

"And you say that it was their grounds' caretaker that killed him in the end?" Ginny inquired tentatively, trying to redirect the conversation back to the subject that interested them. "If you don't mind me asking."

"Not at all, dear!" Adelaide assured her. "Frank Bryce, was his name." She said. "And he was only the gardener when the Riddles still lived. But nobody wanted to look after the grounds when the family died and nobody ever came to claim the Riddle House either; so he lived there alone, in the gardener's house."

"Poisoned the whole of them, I tell you!" Mrs. Thomson insisted. "Their maid cam in the next day and found them all on the floor at the dinning room, still dressed in the clothes from last night. Their eyes were wide open, she said, as if they had been scared to death!"

"The police found nothing, of course." Mrs. Drover carried on, slightly miffed that her friend had nabbed the best part of the story. "But there was no one else in the house that day! No, it was Frank Bryce who did it; we all knew it."

"And he died too?" Harry asked. "Isn't that what you said?" The woman nodded emphatically.

"Just over a year now, in the beginning of last August." Mrs. Drover explained. "They found him in the very same room they'd found the Riddles at. Dead of fright!"

"I say he got what was coming for him!" Mrs. Thomson exclaimed. "Some spirits won't rest until they get their due, that's all I'm saying!"

"You young people don't believe in these stories nowadays," Mrs. Lloyd spoke, her voice lowering for effect, Harry supposed, "but I have seen enough of the world to know; that house is as good as haunted, dear. That and the Gaunt house over the hill."

"My grandmother always told me to head the warnings of my elders on these matters." Evy stated earnestly, her blue eyes -now magically paler as not to attract attention- innocently looking back at her. Ginny, brown eyed for the occasion, nodded as if in absolute agreement, with Neville and Draco appearing utterly -and truthfully- entranced. The three elderly women looked completely pleased with their audience and ready to willingly impart them with more information still. Even if in theory it shouldn't, their pieced-together-group worked efficiently and in tune with each separate individual that composed it, Harry mused; maybe Morgana was up to something after all.

"She taught you right then." Mrs. Lloyd stated.

"Strange accidents happen near those two houses." Mrs. Drover added sagely. "Old Mr. Lange tripped and broke his hip a year ago and then the preacher's two daughters crashed their car right at the road behind the Gaunt house a few years further back! Why, only a month and half ago the cemetery at the foothills of the Riddle estate was blown up! Gas line explosion they said it was, but we never had trouble with the pipes before! Only at the Riddle House!"

"The cemetery?" Harry asked, feeling dizzy, memories of last June storming in his mind. "How dreadful!" He managed to utter, his father looking at him surreptitiously, dark eyes filled with concern. Harry shook his head and smiled; there was no use panicking at the very thought of his latest confrontation with Voldemort. He had survived it and that was that. Still, stepping foot on that cemetery again… He steeled himself; it was a necessary evil.

"And both houses still stand?" Draco asked, immediately shifting the focus of the conversation from anything that might remind his brother of his recent brush with death, Harry's forced smile not fooling him for a second. "I mean, with nobody living there?"

"Why, yes." Mrs. Drover stated. "The Riddle House stood on the hill at the end of Little Hangleton since before my time and it will keep looking down at the village long after I'm gone, I'm certain." She predicted with dramatic flair. "And the Gaunt house is right at the other side of that hill you know, just on the borders of the village. Ghastly thing it is, but quite out of the way." Deducing they had heard all the village knew about the Riddles from the three women, Severus steered the conversation to the condition of the forest trails nearby, hinting that they would have to leave soon as not to miss the daylight for their walk; thirty minutes later, they found themselves back on the road and towards the Riddle manor. Making a swift decision to visit the larger house first, where the actual murders had taken place, they managed to reach their destination at around four in the afternoon.

All entrances to the manor were still sealed off with yellow police tape, placed there a year ago and remaining undisturbed since. From the top of the hill where the manor stood, they could clearly see the cemetery Voldemort had chosen as the place of his return. A large vehicle stood in one corner -weren't those called bull-something,  _bulldozers_ , that was the word- of the still-in-ruins graveyard. It was smaller than he recalled, Harry noted, imagining that his mad dash to the Cup and to safety had only made the distance seem longer. Seeing the earth turned up from his spells, the marble headstones in pieces -he could still remember the burning pain as stone pierced the skin on his side- his fists tightened in impotent anger; there was nothing he could do about it now, no spell that would allow him to go back and stop Voldemort from returning. All he could do was soldier on and try his best to stop him.

"Bloody hell!" Neville's voice, thick with distress, echoed on his left. "Is that the cemetery?" He looked at his younger brother in alarm, hoping beyond hope to hear that, no, Harry hadn't had to fight through that mess.

"Yes." Was the laconic answer he received. There was nothing else Harry could thing of saying, nothing that could explain how he had felt that night, dragging his twin along, praying he was fast enough to flee. Absentmindedly, he caught himself searching for the grim reaper statue Adrian had been tied against, Voldemort's father grave. He couldn't see it anywhere; he couldn't decide whether he was relieved he wouldn't have to lay eyes on it again or terrified at how lethally Voldemort's rage could manifest.  _It could have been one of your own spells that caused the statue to collapse_ , the ever-traitorous voice whispered in the back of his head. Somehow that failed to assuage his feelings concerning that particular night. He felt his father's hand on his shoulder and turned to see him smiling encouragingly at it him. On the inside, Severus felt cold and on the verge of hyperventilation. The graveyard had been leveled; nothing could have prepared him for that sight. But Harry didn't need to see his fear and worry at the moment; he needed to be reminded that he was alright, that he was still there, still alive and never alone. And he needed to stop looking at the graveyard; there was nothing more to be found there anymore.

"We need to keep moving." He said softly, a slight tilt of his head pointing at the Riddle manor. "We have the Gaunt residence to visit after we're done here." Harry breathed in and nodded his agreement, turning his back to the cemetery resolutely. They spent the next couple of hours looking around the empty house; what traces of the killing curse might have once been there were long gone, but the description of how the bodies were found was telling enough.

"No traces of anything that might have killed them and looking as if they'd been frightened to death?" Ginny asked rhetorically, when their conversation turned to the deaths of the Riddle family as they entered the dining room. "That's an accurate description of the killing curse if I have ever heard one." At least, Harry mused, fake Moody had done his students a service; he didn't think there would be a student from the second year up, come next term, who would be unable to recognize the Unforgivables upon sight.  _May they never have reason to_ , he added mentally, leaving the room behind him.

They could detect no trace of any lasting spell on the residence and, even thought Severus suggested Voldemort had, in all likelihood, used the manor as his hideout up to a point, he had vacated the premises long ago, probably right after killing Frank Bryce, definitely after the events of last June. If after leaving the Riddle House, Harry had been just about ready to admit the trip to Little Hangleton had been a waste of time, arriving at the Gaunt residence had immediately proved him wrong.

It had taken them some time to actually locate the house; their directions -on the other side of the hill the Riddle House stood upon- put the Gaunt residence just at the borders of the village, out of sight but not so much out of mind. The trail once leading there had partially faded away in the past fifty years by time and weather, weeds covering the parts that still remained. The house itself had been half buried under ivy, yet its simple stone walls still held, even the flimsy looking roof still in place. Which made no sense at all of course, Harry thought as he looked at the cottage from a distance. If a castle such as Orbein had been in peril of having caved in roofs after a few hundred years, with all its wards and charms, would a mere hovel such as this withstand the elements so well? And then a familiar sensation crawled into his skin, more and more tangible with each step he took; Severus had noticed it too and so, it appeared, Evelyn, who shuddered and faltered in her track, looking at the cottage with interest.

"It's in pretty good condition still, is it not?" Ginny asked, having thought along the same lines but not having sensed the magic emanating from the house.

"It's heavily warded." Harry muttered, trying to discern the different layers of the wards pilled over the cottage. There had been many attempts to ward this place, he realized, starting over a century back. But were any of those wards dangerous?

"You can sense the magic from here, can't you?" Neville asked, squinting at the house in the distance.

"Every long lasting spell leaves a trace that can be sensed." Evy explained. "Depending on the type of the spell, ward, or charm, a trained witch or wizard might be able to recognize what type of magic it is they encounter, based on the resonance of the spell. The more types of magic you study, the easier it is to recognize them when happening upon them. I, for example, studied wards in Egypt while working on my History of Magic mastery, making it easier to recognize them now."

"Now  _that's_  useful." Draco stated, observing Harry who had tilted his head slightly to the left and closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on the magic emanating from the house and that alone. All those half faded wards were like magical clutter and he needed to be absolutely certain that no harm would come to them should they step into radius. Severus, who had more years of experience than all of them, swiftly cautioned them against it.

"There are definitely some Ministry banned wards thrown in there." The potions master stated. "Some more faded than others but we'd better proceed with caution. There's no sense in approaching without taking them down."

"I've got to learn how to do that." Ginny said, observing Evelyn who was following Severus' example, trying to determine which of the wards they needed to take down before moving further towards the house. The two adults proceeded to take down the wards they thought dangerous, starting with the frayed ones to clear the way and proceeding to the stronger, younger ones.

"Some of the wards are actually triggers." Severus announced almost an hour later, halting just before he tried to remove yet another of the wards.

"Triggers?" Neville asked intrigued.

"It means that their only use is to inform the caster that they're being breached once one attempts to remove them." The potions master explained, dark eyes narrowing in thought.

"They feel relatively new." Evelyn observed, after taking a few minutes to identify one of said wards; it was a lucky happenstance, she decided, that Severus had noticed them in all that clutter; whoever it was that had cast them -and she feared she knew who it had been, the Dark Lord never did things by half after all- had done an excellent job disguising them.

"Voldemort's work, you'd reckon?" Neville asked her. She simply nodded and got back to work. "And how do you deal with them?" The brown eyed Gryffindor inquired.

"You just don't touch them." Severus explained, stopping to take a few breaths to clear his head. "As long as they're not removed, they're harmless." In dire contrast with the evisceration curse he had just countered. He thought it best not to mention that, or let any of the teenagers step foot into that house before he did. One thing was for certain; there was something in that cottage, under all these wards. But what?

While Severus and Evelyn continued with their ongoing battle with the wards, Harry remained silent, observing them, trying to get the feel of the wards instead of actively taking them down. Despite recognizing he didn't have the knowledge to back him up when dismantling lethal wards -family wards and dark wards were two different cases altogether and the Ostelers had been trying to keep Orbein unbreachable, not turn it into a deathtrap for everyone, including its own inhabitants- he had been able to recognize Voldemort's magical signature in the accumulated spellwork. Hidden inside and under preexisting wards, but it was clearly there, lurking just beneath the surface.

And as the sun glided towards the western horizon, just as Severus proclaimed the most dangerous wards brought down, with much less unrelated magic interfering, Harry felt it. It was indeed Voldemort's magic, coiled and disguised in itself, pulsing steadily once you knew were to look; he would have missed it entirely had he not be searching for it but he had refused to take any chances, not with the obliterated graveyard not a mile away reminding him what was at stake. So, he had found that hidden thread of the Dark Lord's magic, emanating not from the wards -although Harry was certain many of them had been put up by Voldemort himself, for now protecting this house made perfect sense, the vicious death of any trespasser would be utterly justified in Voldemort's mind- but from somewhere inside the house, under a heavy veil of yet more magic. It was no spell that his sensed, no charm; that single thread could be coming from one thing and one thing alone.

"Don't move!" He ordered, raising a hand to stop his father, who had taken the lead, from walking into the Gaunt residence, his voice sharp, tone verging on terrified. "For Merlin's sake,  _don't move_!"

"What? Why?" Were the foremost questions shot at him from the five people surrounding him. Harry breathed in deeply to steady himself, feeling the same dizziness he always did when coming in unexpected contact with the Dark Lord's magic, bile pooling in his stomach. Suddenly, he felt glad he hadn't ingested anything of consequence since lunch.

"Horcrux." Harry announced, a bout of nervous laughter escaping him as he spoke, thinking of what lay ahead.

" _Here_?" Severus asked, unable even of blinking, seemingly petrified.

"Are you serious?" Neville asked, his own voice high pitched, verging on panic.

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Harry deadpanned, eyes wide.  _I feel like I'm going to be sick_ , would be the words he'd string together to make a sentence that would describe his present condition if he, in fact, could find it in him to speak. Or open his mouth without actually getting sick.

"He hid a Horcrux here?" Ginny asked, sounding almost calm. Shock, probably, Harry deduced, trying to focus on anything other than the horcrux beckoning in the distance. Her face went so pale it looked almost grey, her freckles standing out even more than usual, and suddenly Harry was certain he wasn't the only one fighting to keep down his food. He hadn't managed to speak about it with her yet and he suspected Ginny hadn't had the presence of mind to consider all she had found out during the last couple of days, but he could vividly recall the last time she had come face to face with one of Voldemort's horcruxes. She had almost died that day, her whole life had changed and now she would face one again. He saw her swallowing down, eyes closing, fists clenched tight, shoulders squared.

"Yes." He answered, waiting for her response; how had they managed to run into yet another horcrux again?  _You_  did  _go looking for one this time around_ , his mind provided mockingly. Brilliant.

"How do we get to it then?" She asked, opening her eyes and looking at him. Noticing him staring back, she smiled sadly and shook her head. "I'm fine," she insisted. Harry new what  _fine_  meant. He had been  _fine_  during cases like this one his whole life. It meant she was terrified and would rather be anywhere else but here but damn it if that'd stop her. Pretty much what he felt then. Again, he thought as he nodded at her in acknowledgement, bloody  _brilliant_.

"But it's a  _shack_!" Draco complained half-heartedly, simultaneously pulling out his wand, surrendering to his fate.

"Do you think it's safe to enter the house?" Severus asked, straight to the point, moving closer to his son instinctually, trying to offer him comfort by his proximity.

"Enter the house? Yes." Harry muttered, not finding any residue traces of Voldemort's magic on the remaining wards. "Approach the horcux? No," he admitted. "Unfortunately, we won't know were the horcrux is exactly before entering the house."

"Damned if we will, damned if we don't?" Evy asked, a would-be smile on her lips.

"Let's hope not." The potions master countered, lighting the tip of his wand with a silent  _Lumos_  spell. "I'm going in first." He stated, looking mostly at Harry; he knew his son would want to lead the way; he was the one that had the better chance of locating the horcrux after all and there was no protecting him from that. But, even if he had to use his own self as a shield, he was determined to do at least that much to ensure some semblance of safety.

"I'll follow right after you." Harry stated, admitting defeat; he could see it in his father's eyes; he wouldn't badge on this one. "And, should nothing happen, I believe it would be safe for all of us to enter the house after me." He added. "But we should all refrain from touching anything before we know where and  _what_  this horcrux is. And after we do know," he paused looking at the people around him, knowing fully well that they were prepared to follow after him no matter the danger, "nobody touches it. I can already feel it's buried under dozens of curses from here. Merlin knows what Voldemort's cast on it!"

"And what then?" Neville asked. "Do we just,  _destroy_  it?"

"It would be prudent to." Evelyn offered, looking at Harry, intuitively knowing it would be his choice in the end. Harry faltered at that thought; would they just destroy it? Neville always did ask the most vital questions, did he not? He knew it would be unwise to carry that horcrux back to Silbreith too. They understood very little of how horcruxes worked to put two in such proximity and hope for the best. And they weren't leaving it here, that was certain. So, the prudent think would truly be to destroy the thrice damned thing and be done with it. Considering however that he hadn't been prudent since before he could remember himself, Harry instead decided;

"I'm doing a trial run with this one." Five startled blinks followed his declaration.

"You're interrogating it." Severus stated, a shiver passing though him at the very thought, rattling him to his bones.

"Not as prudent." Evy muttered, smiling wryly.

"No, listen to me," Harry spoke before they tried to talk him out of it. In the five seconds since he had decided it, he had already formulated at least nine different arguments against his decision to proceed with his current vein of thought. Hearing them might actually discourage him from going through with it and he knew this was one opportunity he couldn't pass. "That horcrux in there? There's a great chance it's older than the locket. We already knew Voldemort killed his father, now we know he killed his grandparents on the same day; he probably used one of their deaths for this horcrux. It's sick, I know, but it would make the piece of his soul in this horcrux, younger, less knowledgeable. In case of botching this up, I risk much less vital information than with the locket. And the moment you see this going south…"

"Don't bloody jinx it!" Neville interjected, holding his head in his hands as if in pain.

"It's  _my_  plan, Nev." Harry stated, shaking his head exasperatingly, lopsided grin in place. "When have my plans  _ever_  worked as they were supposed to?"  _From participating to the Triwizard Tournament to watching a quidditch game_ , Harry mused,  _an absolute mess_! "So," he continued, "if something goes awry, you destroy the horcrux on the spot."

"To be fair, it's not much of a plan." Draco stated. Severus placed a hand over his heart in the background and rubbed small circles on his chest, counting his inhalations and exhalations in turn, trying to calm himself down.

"Our other option is destroying immediately." Harry countered. "Just give me a chance at this."

"I do not like it." The potions master stated, voice tight. "And I like not having a choice even less. Harry, if I asked, would you let  _me_  do it?" Harry huffed, laughing once, almost desperately.

"If  _I_  asked, do you think Voldemort would let me live in peace?" He asked. "There's no point in hiding any more."

"That doesn't mean I'm going to like it!" The potions master exclaimed.

"We had already agreed I'd interrogate the locket horcrux…"

"In a controlled environment." Severus interjected, his voice calmer, as he looked at his son's determined eyes.

"You'll be there. That was my safety net all along." Harry pointed out and Severus cursed, realizing that he did have a point. It was a horcrux; _what_  controlled environment?

"I'm going to make sure Voldemort dies a slow, painful death." The potion master stated finally, raising his hands in surrender. Harry laughed, Neville and Draco snorting, while Evy and Ginny, still not used to the dynamics between father and son, simply looked at each other vaguely concerned.

"So," Ginny broke the short silence that had descended upon them, blushing as four pairs of eyes turned to her and clearing her throat before proceeding, "are we doing this or…"

"A  _really_  slow, painful death." Severus promised himself, turning to the house and taking the first step towards the entrance. His proclamation being widely interpreted as consent, Harry stepped right behind him, the rest following in a small distance. "At the first inkling of something going wrong," the potions master added, halting at the entrance, "you curse that thing. If you can't, you step aside and I curse it." It wasn't a question, Harry knew. He nodded.

"Understood." Was all he said, following Severus in the Gaunt house.

Draco's description had been apt; it was a shack. From were he stood, Harry could only see a unified room, walls badly crafted and crooked. If there ever was something that made this room look like a home, it was long gone at this point. The small kitchen was falling apart, an old over rusting in the corner. What furniture there once was now lay in wooden shambles. And the fireplace in the other side of the room was… right over where the thrum of Voldemort's magic emanated from, vacillating and weak but indisputably from a horcrux.

"Any idea what we're looking for?" Severus asked as he motioned the rest of their group to enter the house.

"It's behind the fireplace." Harry stated. The potions master nodded, feeling for whatever it was his son had sensed. While he couldn't say he discerned the Dark Lord's magic, he did catch the odd tune out of the remaining wards; in the walls but not part of the house's protections, tightly wrapped into itself. The horcrux. Severus nodded and took the six steps that led him in front of the fireplace, examining it from afar. Harry came to stand next to him, his brothers and the two witches forming an arch left and right of them.

"There is a spell on the fireplace." Evelyn stated. "I don't recognize it. A seal perhaps?"

"If it's a seal…" Harry muttered, looking at his father. "Dad, can you sense any other spell but that one on the fireplace." A few moments of concentrated silence passed.

"Not  _on_  the fireplace, no." Severus affirmed.

"Do you know which spell it is?" Ginny asked intrigued.

"If it is a seal, I may be able to read it." Harry admitted, pointing his wand towards the fireplace and pushing forward in a jabbing motion; seals he knew how to deal with. The air over a small area at the right side of the fireplace quivered and Harry turned his wand at it, repeating the motion. This time the air above it rippled, like the waves after you've thrown a pebble in a pond. One more movement of his wand, vertical this time, and a silent incantation caused smoke to rise from that same corner; faint but iridescent it swirled around until it formed a simple seal. Snorting, Harry waved his free hand over the suspended smoke, dispersing the seal.

"I suppose you recognized it?" Draco asked. Severus cocked an eyebrow at his son's blasé reaction, having reached the same realization. Harry folded his right sleeve to the elbow, holding his wand with the left.

"Blood magic." He stated. "It requires a blood sacrifice to open."

"And what do you think you're doing?" Severus asked, having correctly guessed that Harry was seconds from slicing his own hand to produce the required toll. Without thinking about it, he ran his hand parallel to his palm, wincing faintly as blood started pouring from a new formed cut. Ginny winced while Neville gasped.

"Dad!" Harry exclaimed as Severus proceeded to push his bleeding palm over the stone of the fireplace. "I would have…"

"That's why I didn't let you." Severus stated, waiting for the seal to accept his blood. "You're planning on interrogating the horcrux behind this seal. You need to be at the best of shapes and we don't know how much blood this seal will need." The potions master stated.

"And you call  _me_  impetuous?" Harry asked, even if he could clearly see the reasoning behind his actions.

"Yes." The potions master stated, shrugging unrepentant. His blood was flowing out, he could feel it, but not a drop landed on the floor. And he found himself unable to move his hand from the fireplace; still, better him than his son.

"Is the stone actually…" Draco asked, blanching further.

"Yes." Harry spat, looking on as he seal drained more and more of his father's blood, his teeth grinding painfully. "And it will continue to do so until it has received no less than two sevenths of his blood volume." Complete silence met his words, his father looking at him in confusion, shuddering slightly as his body registered the blood loss.

"Two sevenths?" He asked, looking at his son, shaking his head to dispel the slight dizziness that had started to take hold. "That's quite… _specific_." He commented.

"I have studied blood magic for years and seals for even more time than I have blood magic." Harry stated, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "The strongest of seals are based on the number seven; they contain seven curses, seven sigils, are anchored in seven runes." He explained, sighing. "Seals based on blood magic always count the blood toll in sevenths; I told you I recognized this one. Two sevenths means roughly twenty-eight and a half per cent of your blood volume, trust me, I've done the math, written the charts. And that's for your right hand." He added pointed at the hand his father had placed on the seal; his left hand. Severus noted that Harry himself had been meaning to pay the toll with his right hand; _oh_. Gazes of worry were exchanged amongst the group.

"Why is the hand relevant?" Severus asked, understanding it could be better if he kept Harry talking; he knew his son. Harry only went to explain the details of his studies in two occasions. The first one was being excited about a thrilling aspect of his current curriculum, mostly concerning alchemy and he simply wanted to share with the people he cared about. The second one, as was the case here, was when he was worried sick.

"Blood magic is all about intent." The green eyed wizard stated, hands extended outwards in his effort to explain. Maybe it was the blood loss but Severus found himself holding back his laughter at the scene; Draco seemed torn between his obvious worry and an impulse to start taking notes. "And the left hand is the hand of the heart. Using blood from that hand in blood magic can be interpreted a sign of loyalty, commitment, respect and/or obedience and all four must be proven whether that was the original intent or not. Not that Voldemort might have cared for the respect of anyone trying to overcome this seal, no. But people are predominantly right handed and who wants to injure their wand-hand before a possible duel?" Silence followed his explanation and he hastened to elaborate. "Blood magic being what it is," he added, eyeing the continuing flow of blood into the seal with something akin to pure hatred, "more blood will be required; that added toll is a blood ounce, the unit of volume in blood magic, equal to seven standard ounces. It seems trivial, but when you're already losing that amount of blood… I imagine the final blood loss this seal requires will be something shy of thirty per cent of your blood volume."

"I assume that's bad?" Neville ask, terror rising in his throat at the sight of his brother's fury.

" _Bad_?" Harry asked, his voice rising in pitch; how much more time would that seal require anyway? His father was already paling and trembling, eyes glassy. Surely, he had met the required blood toll by now? "People  _die_  if they lose more than forty per cent of their blood volume! At thirty per cent," Harry carried on, wand tightly held in his right hand again and Severus -now he was convinced it was the blood loss talking- almost pitied the horcrux behind the fireplace, "he will need blood replenishing potions within minutes. His heart will work overtime to try and cover the need of his vital organs." He turned at his father, green eyes glowing. "You'll start feeling colder," he spoke, his voice calm and soft, and the potions master sighed because he could see his son was trying to calm him down, to walk him through the process, "and you may become confused. You'll be entering the first stages of hypovolemic shock."

"When this thing is done with the blood sacrifice," Severus stated, nodding at his son and trying to keep his voice steady, "I'll step back and you'll take the lead." He had expected blood loss -he had opted to step up instead of Harry and was more and more pleased he had done so as his son explained what the seal exactly did- just not that extensive, Severus admitted to himself. Still, even if he had to acknowledge his son was unmatched by present company -and not only them, he mused, pride blooming in his addled thoughts- in his knowledge of seals and blood magic, he knew one or two things concerning blood loss. And he told Harry as much. "I'm no stranger to blood loss; I know which spells to use to keep me going," he assured the green eyed teen, "but I will be compromised." He turned to the rest of their group. "We don't know the occlumency potential of this horcrux. It's been inactive for long and should be weak but, depending on how much of his soul Voldemort's placed inside it, it might be able of some basic occlumency despite that."

"He'll target the ones closest first." Ginny stated, a sad smile on her face, remembering of her time with the diary. "Then he'll weed out the weakest and go from there, unless distracted. I have some experience on the subject." She had been the weakest once, after all.

"That's why you need to move back." Severus stated, looking at Ginny, Neville and Draco. "Evy, how good are your occlumency shields?" He asked, looking at the witch.

"Excellent." She answered simply and truthfully; as an adolescent, she had discovered occlumency shields to be paramount to her mental health, when her gift of foresight bombarded her with fragments of events that hadn't happened yet, or that were happening to people she knew continents away from her, without a single warning. Without further prompting, Evelyn moved forward, smiling slightly at Harry in a sign of support, while Draco, Neville and Ginny took a few steps backwards.

Severus gulped as more of his blood was slowly siphoned into the rock -and he wondered if that wasn't a form of mental torture for those who dared try and break the seal too, along with the blood loss, waiting and waiting and not knowing how much blood would be required, how much you had left- not daring to extend his right hand to steady himself. And as many times as he reminded himself of all the times he had survived worse than anything this seal might put him through, it was a different thought - _"if it wasn't you it would have been Harry"_ \- that got him through. Suddenly his hand was free and he hastened to step away from the fireplace, Harry stepping right next to him in the blink of an eye, steadying him. Swiftly healing the cut in his hand, focusing all his willpower to the first couple healing charms that would balance him, he breathed in deeply.

"Dad?" Harry asked, his voice quivering. Or maybe it was his own heartbeat thundering in his ears and drowning all other sounds, at this point Severus wasn't sure. He only registered that the fireplace was shifting, the black stones twisting on themselves and regressing into the wall soundlessly in a twisted parody of Diagon Alley's main entrance, when the first spell he cast on himself took effect. It was a poor substitute for a blood replenishing potion but it would have to do.

"Harry," the potions master cautioned pointing at the fireplace with a trembling hand, "I'm fine.  _Focus_." And with a last worried glace towards his father, Harry did just that. He turned around just in time to see the fireplace giving way into a gaping arch, five feet wide and tall as the ceiling, noting visible on the other side. No passageway, no wall; just darkness. Not wanting to use a  _Lumos_  spell that would break the moment he needed to cast a different spell, Harry summoned the same suspended lights that aided him when he studied late into the night and sent them through the arch. For a moment, nothing happened but what was expected; the darkness subsided revealing a shallow niche made from the same grey stone as the rest of the hut. All that differed was that a wooden shelf extended across the length of the back wall, a little higher than waist level and on top of it lay a ring. It was thick, simple golden band, Harry observed, his experience with metalsmithing coming through instinctively, thick and rather crude, and in its middle a simple black stone. It reeked of Voldemort's magic.

"Is that…" Draco trailed of and Harry assumed he had seen the ring too, nodding without turning back to face him. He could hear the shock just as well; he felt it just as much.

"A Horcrux." Neville finished his brother's sentence for him. There was no need for an actual question; what else could it be?

"Yes." Harry answered nonetheless.

"What's that on the floor?" Ginny's voice sounded from somewhere further back. Harry's attention, up to that moment riveted on the ring, followed her observation. He jumped backwards just in time; how hadn't he noticed sooner. The darkness was too thick for the small crook he looked upon; and now, instead of disappearing under his lighting spell, it had slithered like a shadow on the floor and towards his leg, smoky tendrils extending, reaching for him.

"The mists of Lethe!" Evelyn exclaimed, following Harry's example and jumping backwards before the shadowy fingers reached her. Harry cursed, recalling all he knew of that curse. It was a dark spell he had run into while studying for the Triwizard Tournament; manifesting as a dark cloud, it was used as an extreme protective measure. While not banned by the Ministry it was illegal and required a specially licensed wizard to cast it. _Remind me to recall to inform the Ministry of this_ , Harry mused, his thoughts dripping with sarcasm. The dark mist continued to unfold across the floor and towards them; one touch and it would wrap around him, Harry knew, first disorienting him.

Then he would start to forget; why he was there, what he was looking for, who he was. At that point the owner of whatever the mists had been cast to guard should have arrived to apprehend the aspiring thief. In this case, Harry was certain, Voldemort wouldn't arrive; the curse would keep on until he forgot how to move, how to think, how to breathe. The mists of forgetfulness, the mists of oblivion. An effective curse; a horrible way to die. At least, the counterspell, should one have time, the knowledge and the presence of mind to cast it was one he was very familiar with.

A silver light erupted from the tip of his wand; a second later his Patronus stood in front of him, snarling at the darkness. Next to it stood a second, smaller one, looking distinctively like a… was that a fox? Evy's Patronus, Harry realized and watched with apt concentration as the two silver forms slashed and bit their way through the mist. Soon, the mist had completely dispersed, the wolf and the fox fading away with them.

"Thank you, Ginny, Evy." Harry uttered, smiling almost imperceptibly to communicate his gratitude; it was the best he could manage in his state of shock. He looked back at the ring. There it stood inconspicuously, appearing harmless. It was anything but.

"By the seven hells, what  _was_  that?" Neville exclaimed, his breathing erratic. Harry could hear his father explaining what the mists were -thank Merlin his voice sounded steadier, he'd be fine, he  _had_  to be fine- not daring to take his eyes from the ring.

"You think there's more?" Draco asked. Harry nodded. One last thing; he could sense one last curse on the ring and, behind it, Voldemort's soul stirring already, sensing it now had an audience to manipulate.

"There's one more curse on it." The green eyed wizard stated. "I can't tell what it is." He looked at Evelyn who shook her head negatively.

"I can sense it, but I don't recognize it." She admitted, sounding perturbed. A bright yellow spell hit the ring, coming from behind Harry's shoulder, startling five out of the six people in the room.

"A flesh-eating curse." Severus snarled, lowering his wand. "Lethal and irreversible."

"A little warning next time, please?" Neville muttered, rubbing circles over his heart tentatively, his face practically grey. "Also, a flesh-eating curse? Just how sick  _is_  Voldemort?" He had seen a victim of such a curse once, by accident, when he had wondered off during a visit to his parents. The man's right side had been covered in nightmarish, bleeding sores and he was screaming still, even as the healers treated him; Neville had heard them say he'd lose his arm, at least, before running away to be sick in the closest lavatory.

"It's gone now." Harry stated simply, inwardly agreeing with his brother completely. But there was no time for further comments. "It's starting." Voldemort's soul stirred and extended, uncoiling from the ring outwards, reaching first for Evy, who was a step closer than where Harry had jumped to escape the mist; she hadn't been joking when she had said her shields were excellent, Harry thought with great satisfaction, as he could feel Voldemort's soul practically recoiling upon contact with her mind. Then it headed for him; while he had been thinking on how to interrogate the Locket Horcrux, Harry had come up with a plan. Well, he had come up with a wide array of plans, mulling over all possible ways the interrogation could go. But always, the beginning of all veins of thought he had concocted, boiled down to this;

He would let the horcrux touch his consciousness ever so slightly and then he would set the bait. It was simplistic and it was crude, but if he had even managed to do something unfailingly where the Dark Lord was concerned, that would be getting him angry. And he needed him angry enough to talk to him, to address him directly. As such, when the horcrux reached him, he let him in just enough, just until he could feel the muted triumph emanating from the calculative presence inside the ring for having found a malleable mind, before shoving the intruding psyche away viciously. And out of his mind Voldemort's horcrux went, accompanied with a single, well aimed thought;

" _Pathetic"_.

Harry held his breath, hoping for the best. There was always the chance that the horcrux would pass him by, look for an easier target to feed of. But, for once, the plan worked. After jumping back as if scalded, the horcrux returned with a vengeance, fury accompanying its efforts, the pressure on Harry's mind doubled.

" _Is that what you've become?"_  Harry thought, pushing back again, trying to channel his disgust and contempt. Judging from the anger he tasted on his thoughts, his efforts had not been for nothing.  _"Leech,"_  he thought,  _"remnant. Parasite"_. And he pushed back once more making sure to laugh haughtily inside his mind as he did so. A snarl echoed inside his head, bordering on animalistic, as the Ring Horcrux tried to invade his mind again.

" _Is that all that's left of you?"_  Another snarl, but the horcrux seemed still half-hidden in the ring, its actual thoughts away from him. Not hidden precisely, Harry thought in between the horcrux's assaults.  _Locked_. One more attack to his mind, even stronger this time as the horcux reacted to his words.

" _Scared, little horcux?"_  Tangible panic met his latest thoughts, accompanied with disbelief at Harry's knowledge. The presence in the ring stood still. Incensed, Harry gritted his teeth; the diary had been more than eager to come out and talk. What would it take this time? It was his own anger -at his father's injury, at Voldemort, at his own ineffectiveness- more than anything that prompted him to open his mouth and speak in the hisses and whispers of Parseltongue.

" _How many times do I have to kill you before you get it, Tom?"_  He spoke. Though nothing touched his mind, on its perch, the ring trembled. Gasps echoed behind him and he pressed on, encouraged by the obvious reaction he had gotten out of the horcrux.  _"Can't you see?"_  He carried on in the same language.  _"You can't hide from me, Tom."_  The ring shook more violently before a scream resounded in the room; a thick smoke, almost liquid in appearance, all black vapor and swirling ash, burning orange still, rose steadily from it. It took no specific form but, as a presence, it was unmistakable.  _Knew I could piss him off_ , Harry thought behind the safety of his occlumency shields, feeling oddly accomplished.

"Bloody hell." Draco muttered, going completely unnoticed by the black cloud that swirled and focused on Harry. The green eyed wizard looked at the horcrux unwaveringly, his heart beating rapidly inside his chest.

"Hello, Tom." Harry spoke, abandoning Parseltongue. He'd rather everyone heard what the Horcrux had to say; he didn't want to miss anything. "You look like death." He stated, tone dry and uninterested.

"How dare you?" The voice he recalled from his second year, that of a younger Tom Riddle, echoed in the room. "Who are you to speak to me so?"

"Do you mean how did I speak in Parseltongue," Harry asked, allowing himself a smirk, picking the most suitable of the many ways he had envisioned interrogating a horcrux would go "or how did I dare to speak to you so… liberally? I'm guessing both." He looked at the silent cloud in front of him, reaching out with his own mind; the horcrux recoiled from his thoughts but not before he could feel the anger and the fear; he was getting somewhere. "Oh, you're one of them!" Harry exclaimed, as if he had just had a revelation. "One of his early horcruxes. I was wondering if you'd be one. It's been a while since I ran into you lot."

"You do not know what you speak of!" The horcrux accused him, the mist moving frantically, round and round.

"Are you serious?" Harry asked, squashing his panic down - _what am I doing_ , he mused,  _what was I thinking?_ \- and replacing it with feigned exasperation. "After all I've been through to find all of you? I know exactly what I speak of, Horcrux!"

"You  _lie_!" Was all the answer he got for his efforts. He simply shrugged, hands locked behind his back where he could clasp them together violently, nails digging into his palms while remaining unseen. He imagined he looked the very picture of nonchalance, if what little he caught of Evy's stunned expression was indicative.

"Keep telling yourself that, Tom." The cloud in front of him swirled faster, forming into the blurry outline of a human body, as if hearing its name grounded it somehow. A pair of human eyes, large and dark as Voldemort's had once been, opened slowly on what served at the horcrux's face; no other facial characteristics formed. On the one hand, Harry thought, now he had something to judge the horcrux's reactions by, seeing how the shadowy eyelids narrowed to channel Voldemort's soul hatred towards him. On the other hand, this image would remain ingrained in nightmares for moths to come.

"Merlin's beard." Neville chocked out. Before Tom's attention could be sidetracked, Harry hastened to continue.

"Oh yes, definitely one of the early ones." He muttered, as if he actually knew what he was talking about. "I'm Harry, by the way." He stated, smiling widely at the horcrux. "Harry Potter; they guy who's been collecting the pieces of your soul. Well, the guy who's been  _destroying_  the pieces of your soul. I only keep the vessels." He tutted at the ghostly presence in front of him as if scolding it.  _I miss my sanity_ , he thought half-hysterically before he spoke again. "You've had me running up and down the country for so long! Why couldn't  _one_  horcrux suffice? Not for the great Lord Voldemort! No sir!" He mocked. The dark eyes widened and Harry smiled full of rancor.

"What do you know of my horcruxes? You lie!" The Ring Horcrux accused once more.

"I'm repeating myself but yes, definitely one of the earliest ones. Maybe right after the diary." The eyes widened once again, the cloud moving almost imperceptibly backwards. Armed with the realization that at least  _one_  of his theories about the Horcruxes was correct, Harry carried on from there. "You used that girl's death for the diary, didn't you? Myrtle was her name, I believe." The eyes blinked in what Harry interpreted as surprise. "And for this one?" He tilted his head to the side slightly, eyes appraising. "Your father." He pronounced. "I've always wondered if you'd made a horcrux out of that." Bile rose in his throat and he breathed in deeply to fight it back, to hold on a little longer.

"How can you possibly know that?" The Ring Horcrux queried, the smoke rising higher towards the ceiling, its presence threatening. He needed to proceed with caution and swiftly, Harry realized, before the horcrux decided to speak less and fight more.

"You think this is the first time I've done this?" Harry asked smirking , eyes cold. "You know, after the diary was gone, I had thought I was done with you. Stabbed through it with a basilisk tooth, very effective, I must admit." He chuckled once, the sound foreign to his ears, hollow and dark. "To get it I had to run your pet basilisk through with a sword but…" He shrugged casually, as if trying to convey that these things happened; what could you do?

"You're only a child." The horcrux declared. "Trying to play grown-up, Harry?" The ring had started to fight back, his words accompanied with an attack on the green eyed wizard's mind.

"And how old were you when you made your first horcrux?" Harry countered both his words and the mental assault, the former easier than the latter. "A year older than me; I think I'm old enough to destroy them. First was the diary," he said, raising his left pointer finger, counting. He prayed to any deity that might listen that his trick would work; this was where he had been meaning to stir the conversation towards all along. "Then the locket." Two, he counted. The time had come to take a chance, see how much this horcrux actually knew. "Then the cup." He added; the same gaze met him, the same terror filled, wide eyes. "But, of course," Harry stated, smirking once more, pleased that he hadn't been interrupted, "you wouldn't know about those; you were made before them."

"You can't have found them all!" The horcrux raged, but otherwise remained unresponsive; inwardly, Harry smiled in relief. This specific horcrux seemed to have no knowledge of what his future self had used to make the remaining horcruxes but appeared to have a good grasp on the intended number.

"But I can. In fact," Harry insisted, "I  _did_. At first I had figured it was just the one, the diary. Then I uncovered information on not one, but  _two_ more." He shook his head. "Can you imagine my surprise? I started wondering; how many could you have made? Why?" Another shrug. "Immortality was the obvious part of the answer. Security, the other. But that first question -how many had you made?- bothered me still. Counting the part of your soul still in your physical body, I could account for a soul split in four and that, to me, made no sense. Three perhaps, there's a strong magical number! But four? Why?" The horcrux had gone perfectly still, the dark eyes unblinking. "So, I figured, what about five? That's the next magically powerful number, after all." He was fishing for clues now, hoping for a reaction. The Ring Horcrux blinked and spoke again.

"You think you're so clever, Harry Potter?" He scoffed. "Even if you have found all five, I'm still out there, I can make more!" The answer had slipped too easily, Harry thought, his blood freezing in his veins. The horcrux had admitted to five existing with extreme ease. And Harry had said five pieces of his soul, not five horcruxes; of them, he had only claimed to suspect of four.  _You think you're so clever, Mr. Riddle_ , he thought acidly, grinding his teeth together. Not five then? Harry shuddered; the next number in line was seven, the most magically powerful number of them all. That he would have dared… he breathed in deeply and decided to seize the opportunity he was being given despite his repulsion.

"I found five," Harry stated, forcing his lips to form a wide smile, "and then I came here." A widening of the eyes and then another try to intrude on his mind later and Harry knew he was on the right path. "And now, I've found six. Your physical body is all that's left and I'm going after that next. And he won't see me coming; even now, when you're all that's left of the horcruxes, you still underestimate me. Thank you for being so conceited; makes my life easier." Not exactly true but if there ever was one person Harry didn't have any scruples lying to, that would be the entity standing in front of him. "How old were you when you made this horcrux? Barely seventeen? And you had decided you'd split your soul in seven already. You sicken me."

The next mental assault on his mind was so strong, Harry almost physically buckled under its weight; this particular horcrux might have been in seclusion for decades, but the soul it harbored was furious. That more than made up for any refinement and precision the ring's legilimence skills lacked. Barely managing to stave the attack off, Harry realized it was time to end this; the Ring Horcrux didn't seem to know any more about the rest of its kind and, even if it knew, there would be no more speaking to him of it. Following the defense of his mind with his own assault, Harry pushed his way into the horcrux's mind. The shock at finding that the horcrux possessed an actual, normally structured mind -despite the madness he encountered there and the absence of an actual, physical brain- lasted for no more that a second. The horcrux pushed him out savagely, just as Harry had expected, but not seen enough; he had had just the time to ascertain what he now believed to be true. The ring was convinced he had found all the horcruxes there were and was now seconds away from killing him for it.

The black smoke rose and swirled, the eyes turning a vivid scarlet. And then the fragment of Voldemort's soul surged forward, prepared to… Harry wasn't exactly certain  _what_  it was that the horcrux planned on doing, but, as the dark figure approached him, he decided he wasn't going to sit around to find out. He jumped to the side, giving himself a clear view of the ring, previously concealed from him by Voldemort's soul itself, the same moment a grand shield unfolded in front of it, cutting its rampage short. The horcrux turned its attention towards the caster, Evy, for a single moment, all that Harry needed to aim at the ring with his wand and think of the correct curse.

" _Flamabellum Ictus!"_  It was a form of fiendfyre that Harry hoped would be enough to destroy the ring; he didn't want to chance the full-scale curse in such a small, contained space, with his whole family in the room. He watched as what started as a simple burst of flames, extended and reshaped, sprouting wings, talons and a beak before it hit the ring. The deafening scream of pain that turned to an equally ear-piercing and inhuman screech was familiar to Harry. He had heard it once before, at the end of his second year, right after he had stabbed the Diary Horcrux through with a basilisk tooth. Harry turned around to look at the horcrux; the black smoke seemed to be on fire, burning away fast. It took mere seconds for all traces of Voldemort's soul to go up in flames. From its perch on the shelf, the ring fell on the floor, rolling forward until it hit Harry's shoes. There it stopped, empty from the soul that had inhabited for over half a century, the black stone crackled. It was a horcrux no more.

Suddenly feeling exhausted, the room spinning around him, the adrenalin having burned away from his body the moment the horcrux was destroyed. His legs no longer holding him, he sat down on the floor, folding his knees and placing his head on top of them, holding it in turn with his hands. His breathing was erratic and his mind was running around in circles.

"Harry?" His father's sound sounded from over his shoulder, accompanied by more than one set of footsteps. He didn't respond. All that he could think of was that Voldemort had always planed to split his soul in seven. Six horcruxes had always been his goal. Somewhere out there, three more horcruxes remained before they could go after Voldemort himself and it had taken them years to go from the diary to the ring, the locket pretty much landing on their hands by accident. And though he knew they now had an actual trail of evidence to follow, he couldn't help but thinking just what Voldemort could do if it took them years to deal with his remaining horcruxes. Hands pressed over his eyes, he breathed in deeply. A hand fell on his shoulder and he turned around; green eyes met black as Severus kneeled next to his son. Harry sighed and picked up the ring from the floor, passing it on to the potions master.

"So." Severus said, going from kneeling to sitting next to him, left palm open, the ring glittering gold over still pink, freshly healed skin.

"So." Harry repeated. "Three more horcruxes to look for." Severus smirked pointing at the recently destroyed horcrux on his palm with a slight tilt of his head.

"I was going to say congratulations on destroying this one, but you can be all pessimistic if you'd prefer." Severus stated, cocking an eyebrow. Harry looked at him confused.

" _What_?" He spluttered, arms extended. It was Evelyn that broke the resulting silence first, pressing a hand over her mouth after a rather unladylike snort, her efforts not enough to suppress the river of giggling that followed. Harry turned to stare at her, wearing an expression that clearly stated he believed her to have lost her mind.

"I'm sorry, Harry!" She exclaimed, between giggles. "It's just that..." She pointed at the ring, "and you," she continued pointing at Severus, who looked back at her amused, "and him and…" at that point she just shrugged and kept on laughing, Ginny soon following her lead. Neville and Draco and, finally, Severus weren't far behind, leaving only Harry to stare at them for some form of explanation.

"Are you all mental?" He asked indignantly, his miffed expression, further spurring their laughter paroxysm.

"Oh lighten up, Harry!" Neville exclaimed, smiling widely at his brother. The green eyed teen looked from him to the ring and back to the laughing people around him. And out of the blue, the absurdity of the situation hit home. What else could he do, Harry mused, what else could any of them do but laugh? There was still much that had to be done -one more horcrux waiting back home, for Merlin's sake!- and he wouldn't be able to breathe properly until he was certain his father was given the blood replenishing potions he needed. But at that moment, laying back and laughing seemed like a good idea. So, lay back on the dusty floor and laugh was just what he did.

 


	75. The Last Days Of Summer

Gathering themselves from the floor of the Gaunt house and returning to Silbreith had been a swift process, once they had managed to stop laughing. Severus was in need of blood replenishing potions and Harry simply couldn't stand the place any longer. With the ring secured in his jacket's inner pocket, Harry supported his father out of the hut -good riddance, he couldn't help thinking as they left it behind- and steadied him as they landed on the front porch of Silbreith. Minnie was there to greet them, as expected, the house elf paling once her eyes landed on her master.

"Is master Severus ill?" She asked, her voice squeaky and terrified. The potions master smiled tiredly.

"I will be just fine but I would require some blood replenishing potions, Minnie, if you'd please." He stated. "And bring up some diner too, for all of us, to the library."

"Of course, master Severus!" The actual walk to the library lasted longer than it normally would have, the potions master taking careful, measured steps, his son walking by him, still slightly dazed. Once they reached their destination, they found Minnie already there, food served, four vials of a cherry red potion placed by one of the plates.

"That would be all, Minnie, thank you." Harry said, smiling fondly at the house elf.

"And I truly am alright." Severus added, seeing how Minnie was about to inquire after his health once again. "I should probably cut down on spontaneity in the future, but I will be right as rain in no time." Looking slightly miffed at perceiving whatever ailment had befallen her master had been, at least in part, caused by his own impulsiveness, Minnie bowed and left the room, shaking her head in fond exasperation. After smiling at the spot where the house elf had disappeared for a second longer, the potions master turned to the table and poured the first vial in a goblet, seating carefully at an armchair before drinking it, cautiously steadying his trembling hands.

"Let's never do that again." Neville suggested before collapsing on the nearest bench, Harry nodding emphatically as he watched over his father like a hawk; he'd make sure the potions master drank the whole goblet before eating something solid and proceeding with the remaining potions.

"Agreed." Ginny offered, visibly shaken up, her arms wrapped around her own torso tightly. She took a seat next to Neville and shook her head decisively; there was much to be done still and she was over allowing Tom Riddle dictate her life. Hearing that voice again had been like a kick to the gut but, at least, this time she got to see that piece of his soul vanquished. It was with a sense of closure that she had left the Gaunt house, something she had never managed to get from her ill-fated visit to the Chamber two years ago. Until Voldemort was gone for good, it would have to do.

"So," Draco finally spoke, after allowing them all a few, much needed minutes of silence, "one more Horcrux down."

"Yay, team." Neville stated, rubbing his eyes tiredly, an equally tired smile etched on his lips. Severus, with a wry smile of his own, nodded in agreement.

"Two out of six." The potions master reminded them, shaking his head in disgust and immediately regretting the action and the ensuing headache. Noticing his discomfort, Evy grimaced in commiseration.

"That would be inadvisable for the time being; no sudden movements until the potions take effect." Harry eyed the food on his father's plate critically, dissatisfied with the amount he had eaten.

"Dad, you should be eating." It was worded like a suggestion but Harry's tone clearly implied it was an order and nothing else. Snorting in amusement, Severus made a show of taking a bite out of his food.

"Isn't telling you to eat all your food technically my job?"

"Theoretically, yes." Harry conceded. "Practically, I believe, it's Minnie's job to tell us both. I'm making an exception due to certain recent developments. And you're stalling;  _eat_." The potions master rolled his eyes but did as instructed.

"Back to the Horcrux though." Severus said, sipping at the contents of his second blood replenishing potion vial, the pounding in his head subsiding to a more manageable thrumming.

"Those were  _some_  interrogating skills you showcased there, Mr. Potter." Ginny stated, rubbing circles soothingly over her temples. Harry shrugged the compliment off.

"I told you I'm good at infuriating him." He chuckled humorlessly. "Makes for an interesting pastime."

"A  _deadly_  pastime." Severus corrected his son, eyes narrowing; Harry held up his hands in mock surrender.

"I would rather avoid it myself." He admitted. "But you can't deny it's been proven useful information wise."

"Six Horcruxes." Neville muttered, recalling said information. "Just when you think he can't possibly get more insane."

"Two have already been destroyed." Evy reminded them. "One more is in our possession."

"And we know that the fourth is probably Hufflepuff's Cup," Ginny added, "even if we don't know where it is."

"The Locket Horcrux might help on that regard." Harry contemplated. "It was made later than both the ring and the diary and, if the Cup is truly a Horcrux, the Locket will know."

"You're not getting anywhere near that Locket tonight." Severus simply stated, relieved to see his son nodding in agreement.

"I'm practically asleep on my feet as it is." Harry admitted. "As much as I want to find out what the Locket knows, I won't do any good if I try interrogating it when I can barely keep my eyes open."

"I couldn't agree more." Severus said, nodding as emphatically as he could without causing himself further pain. He pushed a plate filled with sandwiches towards his son, silently ordering him to eat something too and Harry motioned for the rest of their group to join them. There wasn't much more they could say or do at that time and thus, after Harry felt satisfied with the potions his father had consumed, they withdrew to their respective rooms, minds filled with thoughts of dark smoke and fire red eyes.

Harry found himself on his bed, his own eyes trailed intently on the inconspicuous ring on his bedside table. Back during the first few days of walking through Orbein's many rooms, he had stumbled upon the strangest double doors he had ever seen. Towering over him at the very end of an otherwise empty hallway in the dungeons, cut out of the very same stone as the castle and fortified with cast iron, they stood as the entrance of what must have once been the castle's private vault. Carved on the doors were runes, casting almost every protective charm under the sun and entwining with unseen curses that had been forged into the metal centuries ago. They all converged to a large seal, one that would have been the pride of any alchemist, dedicated solely to allowing only the current master of the castle entrance.

"Curse breakers would trip over themselves to study these doors." Harry had mumbled to himself before touching the seal to enter the actual room. All gold and jewels had been long transferred to the vaults of the Osteler heirs, bound by the family magic; they had probably found their home in Gringotts vaults after the end of the goblin revolt. But the cavernous room he had found himself in wasn't completely empty. A wild assortment of furniture were stacked at the far back of the room and spreading forward, occupying at least two thirds of the vault that was at least three times as wide as Orbein's entrance hall and twice as tall. Harry strongly suspected it was curved into the granite of the hills behind the castle.

He had appointed Orbein's first four house elves -Minnie's nieces and their husbands- to sort through the furniture and make a plan for where they could be better distributed. The rooms' plans were delivered to him daily for approval -which was generally given with some minor corrections- and Orbein had finally started to look like the castle it once was. According to Willa, Minnie's older niece, not all furniture had been stored down at the vault; the immediate heirs of the last Lord of Orbein had carried away many a table, the house elf had insisted, and it was inevitable that new ones would have to be bought to cover for those missing. Harry, who had up to that moment not realized just how difficult it was to run an estate of Orbein's size, despite all his years of assisting his father with Silbreith, had promptly asked for another list to be made, this time with the furniture that he'd have to approve for buying. Despite the accompanying headache, the vault had been emptied and he now had a place to store the Horcruxes safely. The Locket was momentarily the only object in that vault and the ring would soon accompany it there.

Sighing once again, Harry forced himself to relax, trying not to think too much on the interrogation earlier that night or the one that awaited him tomorrow. He fell asleep looking at the black stone on the ring, the weirdest feeling of accomplishment paired with dread caused by that mere sight fading away in the face of his exhaustion.

It was only late on the next morning that Harry managed to pick himself from his bed and into the shower. But, with the grime from last night washed away and twelve hours of sleep, he found himself climbing down the stairs towards the kitchen, the ring in his pocket, feeling more well rested than he had been the whole past month. His family was already gathered around the table; Draco and Neville were speaking to Evy -whatever it was they were talking about seemed to hold the two teens shocked or captivated, Harry couldn't tell- while Ginny was serving herself and Severus pancakes while the potions master talked about what sounded like amendments to the instructions for a wide range antidote. Smiling to himself, he sat next to his father.

"Good morning, everybody!" He said cheerfully, smiling even wider as his greetings were chorused back at him.

"Someone's in high spirits today." Severus commented, looking -and feeling- mostly recovered from his ordeal.

"Despite everything," Harry said, seating down on the table and accepting a cup of coffee from Neville, "the fact that this is the first time we actually have solid information on the Horcruxes has finally hit home. And we made the interrogation work once; makes me hope we can do it again."

"Merlin's beard!" Draco exclaimed, fork frozen mid-air to his mouth, eyes wide. "Are you being, you know…  _Optimistic_?" He had staged whispered the last word, as if scared naming the feeling would make it disperse.

"I've been known to show optimism now and again." Harry stated, not even bothering to pretend feeling affronted. He helped himself to some toast and jam. "So," he turned to his brothers, "what did I interrupt that had had you two spellbound?"

"We just realized History of Magic is actually an interesting topic." Draco stated, shrugging.

"The cultural shock was too great." Neville proclaimed, placing a hand over his heart dramatically. "Be still my beating heart!"

"It's kind of hard to believe it's an interesting subject when all you've been studying are goblin revolts." Evy conceded, smiling at Neville's theatrics. "I'll have to redesign the whole curriculum."

"Good." Severus stated. "We need the change. The whole five years worth of my History of Magic classes are a big gap in my memory and, I can assure you, it is the same with everyone else Binns has ever taught."

"Hear, hear." Ginny said, the three boys nodding emphatically. Evy just narrowed her eyes and muttered away in Norwegian again. Harry smirked as he caught Dumbledore's name -followed by an impressively rapid stream of what could only be insults- in her spiel.

"I'm suddenly feeling the urge to learn Norwegian." Severus stated, looking at the blonde with amusement.

"Perish the thought!" Evy exclaimed, smirking.

"And speaking of perishing," the potions master said, his expression turning serious, his gaze trailing to his son, "what are you planning to do with the Locket?"

"I was thinking on giving it a go later today, actually." Harry admitted. "There is no point in letting it sit in that vault when the questions I need to ask are so specific."

"You want to know about the Cup." Ginny guessed.

"And try my luck with the Diadem, see if there's anything backing the theory of it being a Horcrux too." Harry explained. "I don't know when the Locket was made into a Horcrux, so I can't tell if it has knowledge of where the Cup is hidden either."

"Well," Draco spoke, "he did make the Ring into a Horcrux almost immediately after he got it, right?"

"You're suggesting he might not have kept the Locket unturned for too long after he stole it, then?" Evy asked.

"I believe so, yes." The blond Slytherin confirmed.

"So, are we supposing he made the Locket into a Horcrux when he was around, what, twenty two? Twenty three?" Ginny asked, clearly sickened by the thought. Twenty three and he had already split his soul into five.

"That sounds about right." Harry confirmed, mirroring her expression. "I'm going to try and pry any information concerning where he might have hidden the remaining Horcruxes and what they might be." He grimaced, his previous optimism ebbing away. "It's a long shot."

"You're going to have to goad him into it." Severus stated, agreeing with his son's assessment of the situation. It was a long shot; not that Harry wasn't going to do it anyway. Not that he wouldn't be right next to him when he did.

"Goading, right." Harry agreed, nodding his head affirmatively. "So the choice is between making him angry and desperate."

"What you did last night seemed to work." Neville commented, remembering the blazing red eyes of the Horcrux.

"Both it is then." Harry decreed, smirking ruefully. Talking to any part of Voldemort's soul was a jarring process. And all the mental preparation in the world wouldn't be able to stop his heart from beating like crazy inside his chest, his head from spinning with the realization that so many things could go wrong at any given moment. But he knew that, unlike in the past years, now there was a countdown counter to the times he would have to face Voldemort. And that, with every Horcrux he destroyed, that counter ticked closer and closer to zero.

"You know," Evy said, looking at her tea, "I always figured Voldemort coming back meant war. That there was a chance even the Sisterhood would fight. I had been mentally preparing myself to do just that." Her gaze shifted and her eyes met Severus' across the table. "I just never thought how much fighting there would be  _before_  the actual war started."

"None of us really did." Harry admitted, shrugging helplessly. "At least you're willing to believe Voldemort is back and prepare for war." He grimaced, green eyes narrowing. "Most people have chosen to turn a blind eye and hope for the best." According to the Daily Prophet and Rita Skeeter's articles, at least, the Ministry was still utterly successful in convincing the general public the Dark Lord was dead and gone. Dumbledore had been cut off from practically everywhere and there was no sign of him gaining his political standing back any time soon. It was a nightmare. "I'm afraid that they won't be convinced in time to prepare." He admitted.

"Speaking of preparation for battle," the potions master said, trying to steer the topic of the conversation away from the Ministry and its propaganda to take Harry's mind off things, even for a while, "I think we have all fallen a little behind. After the Horcrux id dealt with, we should try to work out a schedule."

"I missed sword fighting." Neville stated, nodding emphatically. "After everything, I would welcome some quality time with the training dummies."

"Sword fighting?" Evy asked. "You have incorporated sword fighting to your training?"

"Yes." The potions master answered. "When it comes to fighting, magic isn't everything. Fighting in a battlefield needs endurance and sword fighting helps." He regarded the two women carefully. "Have you ever thought about it?"

"Sword fighting?" Ginny asked, smiling wryly. "Honestly? Living with six older brothers I've entertained the idea, once or twice. Not for years though."

"I have too, as a child; nothing more than play pretend though." Evelyn chuckled lightly as a half buried memory resurfaced. "When I was ten, I almost made it to the stables with my father's sword; I was grounded for a fortnight." She admitted, causing Severus to smile at the thought of a ten year old Evy playing the part of the fearsome knight. "I must admit, however, that my talents probably lay with magic and not a blade."

"The point still stands." Severus insisted, his countenance serious once more. "If I have ever learned anything of war, that would be you never know what you'll face; you just have to prepare for everything. Training your magic is only part of it; there might come a time you'll need to run -or kick and slash- for your life and you can't ignore that." He pointed at the two women in their group. "Understand that this has nothing to do with your magical prowess; I don't know what being in the Sisterhood entails, how you train and whatnot. But you need to prepare your body for war too, not just your mind and magic."

"I understand the principle." Evelyn offered, nodding her head in agreement. "But you must realize I've had no prior training with weaponry; I'll have to start from scratch and I don't know if we have time for that."

"We have a training suit of armour that has all the time in the world, right here in the dungeons." Harry assured her.

"I also doubt I'll be able to lift a broadsword, let alone wield it successfully." To that Severus had to concede.

"There are options other than broadswords; you just need an alternative to your wand in case things go south. As they're wont to do." He added, cocking an eyebrow in quiet introspection.

"And what about you, Ginny?" Harry asked, noticing the redhead still appeared apprehensive about the whole idea. "Any thoughts on your weapon of choice?"

"Look, I also, how did Evy put it? Oh, yeah, I understand the principle, alright?" She said, arms opened wide in a helpless motion. "But I highly doubt my ability to wield a sword."

"It's just a matter of training, I assure you." The potions master said. "You don't have to become a master swordswoman. Just adequate enough to pull yourself out of trouble."

"Yeah, and if Draco can do it…" Neville interjected, smirking at the blond Slytherin who punched his brother's shoulder in retaliation, casting him a dirty look through narrowed grey eyes.

"Watch it, Longbottom!"

"Yes, well, they've both been practicing swordfight and managed to be half decent at it," Harry commented at the unfolding scene, pointing at his brothers that were now trying to push each other off their respective chairs, "so that's proof that everyone can learn."

"Thank you, Harry." Said brothers chorused, pausing their bickering to look at the green eyed teen, before resuming their prior activities.

"Yes, well, I don't trust me with a sharp object and you shouldn't either." Ginny stated, sounding resigned. "But I'm willing to give it a shot if you have healers waiting on firecall."

"Why are you so adamant you won't take well to weapons training?" Harry asked, sensing there was more to her reaction than lack of experience.

"I'm accident prone. Also, gravity and I have been at odds since my infancy and adding a sharp object to the equation will just end in pain, blood and severed limbs, that's why." Ginny deadpanned with conviction.

"That was… quite the grim prediction you made there." Severus said, the corners of his lips twitching upwards.

"You can't be that bad, surely." Neville argued, he and Draco having finally called truce.

"I've been known to trip over flat surfaces." Ginny persisted. "And, as none of my brothers will ever let me forget, I once run after them from the house to the garden, demanding to be included in their quidditch match, and missed the door while talking to my mother over my shoulder, running into the wall instead." She shook her head at the memory of her younger self while the people around the table tried to hold back their laughter in various degrees for success. "Mum had been telling me not to run inside the house as to not hurt myself at the time too. Fred insists, to this day, that the wall by the kitchen door hasn't been the same since. Apparently, I dented it. Fred's a prat." She concluded, sending their little group into laughter.

"When was that?" Harry asked, amidst chuckles.

"Six years ago?" Ginny said thoughtfully. "Must have been around eight at the time."

"If it makes you feel any better," Harry offered, wiping an errand tear from the corner of his eye, "I was so startled the first time I ever made a precious stone during an alchemy class, I knocked over a small vial of acromandula poison into the basin and managed to singe both mine and Nicolas's eyebrows off."

"You didn't!" Draco exclaimed, only to resume laughing at the moment Harry nodded affirmative. Severus smiled widely at the memory; Harry hadn't narrated any of the funny little mishaps that had taken place during his early lessons with Nicolas since the alchemist's death. He used to go on and on about them when he was younger and he couldn't help but rejoice at their reappearance. That was the ay the Flamels were meant to be remembered, the potions master decided.

"I still have you beat, I think," Ginny stated, smiling widely at the people around the table.

"How exactly do you think you've managed that when my story had Nicolas Flamel in it?" Harry asked in interest.

"Have you ever heard people say  _"you just know your day will be bad when you fall off the bed and miss the floor"?_ " The redhead asked, looking at Harry, smirking ruefully; he only laughed and managed a chocked;

"But how?"

"An abrupt wake-up call and some dim-witted application of accidental magic." She explained before elaborating further. "It was a few days after Ron had left for Hogwarts the first time and I realized all my brothers had gone to school, leaving me back home." She narrated. "So I must've been having a nightmare, 'cause, next thing I know, I'm rolling off the bed. I was fully expecting to hit the floor; I hit the ceiling instead. I was stuck up there for five hours until whatever spell I'd unwittingly cast wore off."

"That's actually quite an impressive bout of accidental magic there." Evelyn commented after her laughter had somewhat died down.

"And you people want to give me a sword." Ginny lamented, shaking her head once more in complete exasperation.

"You'll be fine, you'll see." Harry insisted, smiling brightly. Goblins gold, but he had needed to laugh!

As it turned out, it wasn't just the two of them that had their moments of being accident magnets. Somehow Harry couldn't find it in him to be surprised of that fact either. Neville narrated the story of his first bout of accidental magic -"your uncle did what?" Severus had asked when Neville mentioned being held out a window by his ankles, Draco chocking on his tea- while Evy told the story of how both her and her brothers had ended up covered in mud and sporting a few broken bones during a formal dance, after deciding to play hide and go seek near the stables and subsequently climbing and falling from the roof. Harry had doubled in two from laughter -as he always did- when Severus narrated the events leading to the one time he had actually blown up a potions lab and stared at Draco in bemused awe as he admitted to having crashed through a window the first time he had ever flown on a broomstick.

"Not a single one of us should carry weaponry." Neville decreed. "What were we even thinking?" The jovial atmosphere lasted for a few more minutes until the conversation turned, inevitable, to the matter of the Locket once more.

Deciding where the actual confrontation would take place was the easy part. Orbein stood close by, all strong walls and empty halls. Harry had just the room in mind; it was a large chamber in the west wing of the castle. He couldn't be certain, but he speculated that it was once meant to be used as a secondary council chamber, in case the castle was under siege. It had been completely stripped of furniture at this point and had no windows, making a fortified wooden door the only entrance and exit and the room ideal for dealing with a Horcrux.

Keeping the Horcrux in the room -and preferably preventing any homicidal tendencies on its part- was another issue altogether. They had unanimously agreed that, should the shard of Voldemort's soul in the Locket try to either escape or attack one of them -five sets of eyes had turned towards Harry at the mention of a possible attack, making the teen huff indignantly- the Horcrux would be destroyed immediately. The potions master feared -a fear based on some vague paragraphs he had stumbled upon just that very morning- that the Horcrux might be able of possessing the body of another being, should the need arise.

"I'm not certain of the circumstances that could allow such a possession to take place," Severus had explained, all his protective instincts urging him to incinerate the Locket immediately, before his son stepped into the same room with it, "but I'd rather not chance it. The fact that we didn't take any measures against such a possibility last night will sufficiently provide me with enough nightmares for years, thank you."

It was Evelyn that suggested Voldemort's soul trapped in the Horcrux was still, in effect, a living thing. And though there were no shields they could think of that would keep an actual, disembodied soul at bay, there were a few charms and spells that could probably contain it, for a short time. By the time they had managed to assign a shield to each one of them to cast, along with practicing, it was already well into the afternoon, leaving them very little time to waste. The ride to Orbein was silent as everyone was lost to their own, private thoughts, Harry internally repeating the questions that needed be asked; the getting Voldemort angry part didn't actually bother him. Experience had proven that his presence was enough and, should that fail, he could taunt the Horcrux to distraction. It wasn't until Orbein was in sight that the silence was disrupted.

"Is that…" Evy trailed off, blinking at the castle standing proud in the distance. "Is that Orbein?"

"Yes it is." Harry confirmed, smiling at their dumbstruck expressions.

"Discreet." Ginny stated, cocking an eyebrow and smirking at Harry. "Cozy. I like it." Harry laughed at her antics as Evelyn's inner historian kicked into gear.

"When did you say the castle was abandoned by the Ostelers?" She asked eyeing the structure contemplatively. "Because from where I'm standing, it doesn't look like it has undergone any renovations." She explained. "There are no Renaissance elements, no Victorian elements and the outer walls still stand." Evy turned around to face Harry for an answer, only to find him looking owlishly back at her.

"What? It's my hobby!" She defended herself.

"You're an archaeologist whose hobby is history?" Severus asked, mirth clearly colouring his voice.

"I made my hobby into my profession and now I know I won't ever get bored of my work." She countered, smiling broadly. "How's that wrong?"

"That actually makes a great deal of sense." The potions master admitted, smiling back. Hadn't he chosen potions for the same reason after all?

"Thinking I might well enjoy History of Magic at Hogwarts this year is a very bizarre prospect." Neville interjected, the small group riding towards the castle, now feeling marginally better at the thought of what they had to face. Harry entertained himself with observing Evy and Ginny's reactions to the castle as they rode through the gates, trying to keep a level head; it seemed odd, but it was waiting to face the Horcrux than actually facing it that felt more nerveracking. Thinking about what he was going up against was only working him up more when all he wanted was to get the interrogation over and done with.

"I knew it!" Evelyn exclaimed, pointing at the two statues by either side of the main gates. "No modernizations; a perfect example of late medieval architecture! Do you see the arches over the windows on the left?" And she carried on explaining the architectural details that made Orbein unique and  _"an excellent specimen for any architectural thesis, I swear!"_ , all excited and smiling because, apparently,  _history_. Severus smiled softly at the woman, allowing himself to be affected by her enthusiasm for a few moments, taking a couple deep breaths to clear his head.

"Just how much do you know about medieval architecture?" Draco asked, finding himself impressed by her knowledge and intrigued by the subject and her lively way of transmitting information. Evy smiled shyly at the blonde Slytherin.

"Sorry. I tend to babble when I'm anxious." She confessed. "Nervous habit. Just wait till your first history lesson and you'll see." She added, eyes widening in terror at the thought. "Didn't really think it trough before I applied for the job. I've only ever taught small classes. And  _never_ teenagers."

"Don't worry." Severus advised, laughing openly as he led Kadar towards the stables. "I blew up a cauldron before teaching for the first time. I still don't know how, but I did. Everybody gets nervous."

"Blowing things up before a lesson might be the best idea I've ever heard." Evelyn stated, looking far off, as if visualizing such a prospect. "Great outlet for nervous energy."

"That's not what I meant, but whatever works." The potions master offered, chuckling slightly. The six of them walked together to Orbein's vault to get the Locket, Harry trying to distract himself by pointing out the renovations and the various rooms of the castle as they passed them by. He retrieved the box from the otherwise empty vault and took it to the designated room, without opening the lid. He could already feel the Horcrux stirring inside, trying to taste the waters, get a feel of the one carrying it. Upon reaching the room, he opened the box and placed the Locket on the floor, on the other side of the room, constantly keeping his attention on it as Evy and Severus walked around the west wing, making sure it was vacated as he had ordered.

The Locket lay unmoving and silent on the stone floor, just as the Ring had been a night ago. Harry hadn't been fooled last time and he wasn't fooled this one either. He knew, the moment he took a step further, the Horcrux would try to attack his mind. And once he addressed it, once he made his intentions known, it would add bodily harm to his repertoire. He sighed and rolled his shoulders; not as if he had much choice on the subject or anything. He wasn't leaving this room without  _some_  answers, at least, and, no matter how unwillingly, the Locket would provide them.

"Ready, brother?" Draco asked from his left, smiling reassuringly. Harry nodded.

"You know you've got this." Neville encouraged him, punching his shoulder playfully. "I was right there when you wiped the floors with the Ring's smoky face last night, I saw you doing it once before already." And he winked at him, brown eyes twinkling.

"Exactly." Ginny agreed. "And we'll be right here. Should push come to shove, I'll just throw you over my shoulder and make a run for it." She added, grinning widely, Draco and Neville laughing at the imagery.

"I'd like to see you try that, Weasley." Harry stated, chuckling at her pretend insulted face.

"I have no doubt you would, Potter." She piped, smiling once more. "I have no doubt."

Two sets of footsteps echoed in the corridor, Severus and Evy stepping into the room a few moments later. Harry could see his father's eyes travel from him to the Locket on the ground and hardening in seconds. His shoulders set decisively, he looked back at his son and smiled softly.

"The whole floor is vacated." The potions master stated. "The house elves have direct orders not to step anywhere near the second floor or even the staircases leading from and to it."

"Are we ready then?" Evy asked looked at the Locket with undisguised disgust. "At least we won't have to get through more psychotic security measures to get you to that one." She concluded, looking at Harry, trying and failing to come up with something more positive to say for the occasion. Instead she pulled her wand from its holster, deciding to be prepared for anything and everything, mentally going through the list of shielding charms and counter-spells she knew. If there ever was reason to put her knowledge on the subject in good use, she thought to herself, fingers tightening their hold around her wand, then this was it.

"That's something, at least." Harry agreed, his own wand now in his hand, green eyes locked on the pendant. "Alright then. You know the drill." He said, smiling softly at the people behind him. "If it tries to go past me and escape this room," Harry stated seriously, all traces of humor disappearing, "you stop it. It won't survive if I destroy the Locket, but it's our only source of information right now and, as much as I want to see it gone, I don't want to vanquish it before we get what we need." Four nods later, Harry straightened his shoulders and turned to face the Horcrux again, taking comfort in the knowledge that he couldn't find a group of people he trusted more to have his back than the ones currently in the room with him.

"Just, before I start," He said, not turning around to look at them, "I want you to know, no matter what I say-"

"Harry, it's alright, we understand." Severus assured him, smiling softly as the remaining members of their small team nodded in agreement. "Do as you must." And thus reassured, Harry nodded, breathing in deeply. It was time.

" _Open_." He hissed at the locket, steadying himself. Not one to disappoint, the Locket opened with a soft  _click_  and Harry just managed to catch sight of a pair of dark, human eyes looking out from behind the glass before the same smoke from last night emerged. Schooling his expression to utter neutrality, Harry faced the part of the Dark Lord's soul harbored in this Horcrux.

"Good morning." The green eyed wizard said, nodding his head at the apparition. "And how are you feeling this beautiful day?"

"What do you think you're doing, boy?" The Horcrux asked, eyes flashing red for a moment amidst the thick, black smoke. They weren't the burning embers he remembered from last afternoon however and Harry wondered how long it would take him to infuriate  _this_  part of Voldemort's soul to distraction and incoherency.

"Honestly?" Harry asked, smirking at the smoke. "Gloating." The Horcrux fell silent for a moment, the answer he had received halting whatever plan of attack it had had in mind.

"Who are you?" It asked, finally. Much more coherent than the Ring, Harry thought, batting away the first tendrils of Voldemort's magic trying to make their way into his head. Whether it was because this Horcrux hadn't been stranded alone for half a decade or because Voldemort had been older when he had made it, Harry didn't know. Whether a more rational Horcrux was ultimately good for his plan to extract information he didn't know either.  _Marvelous_ , he mused, focusing on the task at hand.

"Legilimency already?" He asked, tutting chidingly. "No manners, I swear."

"I asked you a question, boy!" The Horcrux demanded, the dark mist swirling faster, round and round.

"My name is Harry Potter." He said, bowing cordially, cold eyes never leaving the Horcrux's. "And a boy you may think me, but I'm the one who killed you."

"Liar!" The Horcrux screeched.

"Oh, but I did." Harry answered, tilting his head to the left slightly. "Five times and counting. Two to go, am I right?" He asked, smirking at the sight of those dark eyes widening, flashing crimson again. "Do I have your attention now?"

"You're lying." The Horcrux insisted, pushing into Harry's mind once again. Having expected the attack, Harry blocked him once again, eyes watering with the effort not to flinch or wince at the contact.

"No, I told you already; I'm  _gloating_." Harry intoned. "Big difference."

"You're just a  _boy_ , how do you plan on having me believe-"

"Every time the same arguments." Harry said, shaking his head, doing his best to project disappointment. "Let me make things easier for you; every single of your Horcruxes has asked me how a mere boy could kill them, Lord Voldemort. Then I was accused of lying, you covered those parts yourself…" Harry trailed off pretending to consider what had come next. "That Diary of yours sicked a basilisk at me for my efforts, thanks awfully." He added. "Temper, temper."

"You can't have found all of them. You're trying to trick me." The Horcrux stated, straight to the point, the black cloud expanding, covering more and more of the room, embers making their appearance, burning orange. From the corner of his eye he could see his father gripping his wand tighter, aiming straight at the Horcrux; Harry's heart jolted to a stop of a moment, he could swear, before lurching into action in double the speed. The Horcrux itself was fishing for information, accusing him of lying, grasping at straws, just like last time, he assured himself. And even though it was correct in its assumptions, it hadn't seen into his mind, it couldn't possibly know for sure. He was going to stick to his plan until the end, Harry decided; no use of panicking, as always.

"And you're grasping on straws. Do you want me to enumerate them, then?" Harry asked. "I was going to anyway; comes with the gloating theme I have going." He shrugged as Voldemort's Horcrux tried to push into his mind again. "Down boy." Harry admonished, watching in satisfaction as the Horcrux's eyes turned burning coal red and stayed so. Perhaps an infuriated Voldemort would be better; that was the only version of the Dark Lord he knew how to deal with, after all. "I've spent years running around, chasing your Horcruxes. Now it's just you. I'm going to  _enjoy_  this."

"And yet you remain vague." The Horcrux accused. "You're lying."

" _That_  again?" Harry asked. "Really?" He sighed, forcing his heartbeat back to normal. "Let's take this from the beginning, shall we? First came the diary." Harry begun, smiling widely at the Horcrux, putting his best effort at projecting self-assurance. "It had found its way back at Hogwarts, would you believe it?" He asked, eyes wide, mentally sending his apologies to Ginny, especially for what was going to follow. "Tried to kill all Muggle-born students and whatnot. A for effort on that one, by the way." Harry stated, his smile now predatory; the Dark Lord had failed that time, he reminded himself. Voldemort hadn't managed to kill anyone with that diary of his but, for what he had done to Ginny,  _this_  was revenge. "Had to go through your basilisk for it; ended up impaling it with a basilisk poison induced sword, actually. That pretty much sums it up." The Locket Horcrux remained silent, burning eyes fixed on his, while it tried to invade Harry's mind.

"I found the Ring next." Harry stated, pulling it out of his pocket to show it to the Horcrux who snarled in response, lurching forward. An array of shielding spells blocked its way, holding it back for the time being; Harry turned around for a second to smile and nod thankfully to his family. No better group to watch my back, he repeated inwardly, before facing the Horcrux again. "Don't be so dramatic. Now stay still and listen; I've wanted to get that out of my chest for years." He said before lurching back to his story; there was no telling how long the shields would hold; his best guess was not for long. "I had learned of your real name, Mr. Riddle, from the Diary; you left it on the cover, really. And then that merit award in Hogwarts? Took me some time to make the connection to the Gaunts. And you were kind enough to leave the Ring there; how could I not take advantage of that?"

"Then came the Cup." Harry stated, looking at the Horcrux intently; the shade growled and its eyes shone brighter, its efforts into getting into his mind redoubling. Despite feeling his knees close to buckling, Harry rejoiced. The Cup had been made a Horcrux too, now they knew for certain. "And though you stole it and this Locket together," he carried on pointing at the floor beneath the Horcrux, "you hid them apart. Clever, I suppose." Harry stated, gathering his thoughts; there were two things he could have done with the Cup, he reminded himself; he had either hidden it on his own, like he had done with the Ring, or he had entrusted its safekeeping to one of his followers, as he had done with the Diary. He recalled his father's advice from earlier that morning; he would have to bait him for the information, there was no other way to go about it.

"I hadn't expected that one, I must admit. Do you know how long it took me to find it? 'Cause when you want to hide something, you get creative. I had to ask myself, were could it be? Because I wasn't expecting to simply happen upon it as I did with the Diary. And because,  _sure_ , you had given the Diary to one of your followers to be reintroduced to the student body of Hogwarts, but that had a purpose; you wanted it to do what you had been prevented from doing when you were sixteen. But the rest of the Horcruxes? What purpose would they serve being given away? And then it hit me; were would  _you_ hide a Horcrux?" Harry looked at the Locket intently, trying to gauge its reactions; this was the most important part, he knew; if he hoped to gleam any information for the hiding place of the cup, this was it.

"The first one you ever made you hid at the Gaunt House." Harry said. "And I realised then, it had more to do with the Ring's and your connection to the place; because it wasn't  _safe_. If one knew where to look, they'd find it. It's not like that house is Hogwarts or Gringotts!" Harry exclaimed, watching those nightmarish crimson eyes widen in shock momentarily. But at what? He'd just been trying to fly his point home. What could he have said that had elicited such a reaction out of the Horcrux? Somehow he doubted it was indignation at the slight towards his family's house; that place was a shack and they both knew it and, besides, that wasn't indignation that had flashed in his eyes, no. It was clear panic with a heavy dose of terror on the side, right after Harry had mentioned  _Hogwarts_  and  _Gringotts_?

" _He wouldn't!"_  Harry thought to himself, head tilted to the left ever so little. He could practically feel his father getting terrified at his abrupt pause but he figured that, at the face of such a revelation, he was entitled to a moment of contemplation before he uttered his next words. _"Because, who am I kidding?"_ Harry mused, a bitter smirk etched on his lips, pushing Riddle's efforts back furiously, knowing those were some thoughts he was having the Horcrux could, under no circumstances, become aware of. " _Of course he would."_  Had that been the plan all along? Hide the Horcruxes in such places so, whoever might wish to hunt them down, would never consider looking for them so close to home?

"Do you understand what I'm trying to say?" Harry asked, attempting to pass his moments of numb reverie as giving the Locket time to process what he had said. He had to know if his assumptions were correct. And for information like that to slip, he mused -wincing inwardly as he imagined the scolding he'd receive from his father for his stunt later- he needed the Horcrux  _furious_. "Where would  _you_  hide your Horcruxes? You, the man that had nothing to call his own in the Wizarding world, nothing to bind him with the magical community?" And now he could actually see his father squirming;  _ruddy hell_ , but he would be grounded till he turned seventeen! And if his thoughts were a bit to the hysteric side, well, Harry chose not to examine that too closely at the moment.

" _Silence_!" The Horcrux commanded.

"No." Harry responded, smiling charmingly. "Because, you see," Harry explained, "that's when everything became clear to me; you weren't just hiding Horcruxes. You were hiding them in places that classified as important to you, stood as a reminder of what you were;  _Lord Voldemort, the Great and Terrible_!" Harry mocked, bowing flamboyantly, his head pounding with the effort of keeping the Horcrux at bay, eyes never leaving the smoke that pounded on the shields erected around it, making them tremble. "First and foremost," Harry concluded, driving his point home, "a _wizard_. And as all wizards in this country know, two are the safest places to hide anything of value;  _Gringotts_  and  _Hogwarts_." He repeated, exulting at the panic he read in those eyes once again. "Right under everyone's noses." Harry exclaimed, shaking his head, his own eyes widening at the implication. "You  _bastard_."

"You know nothing!" The Horcrux shrieked, throwing itself against the shields again. " _Nothing_ , do you hear me?"

"I know enough." Harry countered. "Getting to Hogwarts was easy." He persisted, voice level and cold. "I'm a student there, you understand. Getting to Gringotts though…" Harry grimaced and then shrugged. "Stubborn the goblins might be, but they'd do  _anything_  to keep Gringotts safe and in the hands of the goblin nation. And you tried to take that away from them; after I reminded them they'd be completely ousted from the bank sooner or later they were more cooperative, you understand. They gave me a list of your known followers' vaults, for you never managed to open one, did you now? Then they gave me access to them." The smoke had gone deathly still. "How long had you been planning to use Gringotts as a hiding place, I wonder. Years? Decades?" Harry queried. "It took me  _a month_  to infiltrate Gringotts." He smirked. "Thirty-one days well spent."

"The goblins wouldn't let you!" The Horcrux insisted. "Nobody has free access to Gringotts!"

" _I do_." Harry stated in Gobbledygook, shrugging unrepentantly, repeating his statement in English for the Horcrux to understand. "Just because _you_  couldn't do something it doesn't mean it's impossible." He shook his head again. "It wasn't easy, I'll give you that. But very much possible. And thus went the Cup." Harry concluded; he didn't have the actual Cup to show for it, of course, but he wouldn't risk claiming it was the Locket he had found at Gringotts. There was no telling how aware of its surroundings this Horcrux had been and he wasn't prepared to gamble; well, at least not on something that didn't need be gambled on.

"I was at a bit of a loss then, as to where your next Horcrux would be. I was even at loss as to  _what_  the three remaining Horcruxes  _could_  be. First I found out about you, this Locket. You had stolen it together with the Cup but you hid this one," he said and pointed at the Locket, "quite out of my reach, at the time." Harry admitted. "But then I thought; the Cup, the Locket; there was a  _pattern_  there. So I did some reading; as I said, you had the Cup and you had the Locket. That was Hufflepuff and Slytherin accounted for. Two out of four and I had the Sword."

"No!" The Horcrux protested.

"Yes. Now don't interrupt." Harry admonished, his heart beating like crazy. He was so close now he could taste it. "I knew the Sword wasn't a Horcrux; remember how I stabbed your Diary with a basilisk venom poisoned sword? Yes, that was quite telling. That took Gryffindor out of the list and left only Ravenclaw." Harry ratiocinated. "Ravenclaw and her Diadem."

"No!" The Locket repeated, its efforts on Harry's mind the mental equivalent of a sledgehammer banging on a wall.

"How nice of you to follow a pattern." Harry insisted exuberantly, voice getting louder, more insistent. "Easier for me to pick up the clues."

"You can't have found it!" The Locket boomed, red embers flying everywhere, the shields that surrounded it cracking, small fissures on their surface. "It was hidden and you're a  _child_!"

"You got sloppy." Harry insisted. One more Horcrux, his thoughts echoed, praying for the shields to hold. Just one more.

"You lie!  _She_  told you!" The Horcrux exclaimed, Harry's thoughts faltering at the accusation.  _She_?  _Who_?

"She did." Harry agreed, needing the Horcrux to believe his ruse for just a little longer, pushing this newfound information to the back of his head for later. "And that left only one Horcrux. Just one and I was miffed; no more of the Founders objects lay around, I realised, but then again, not all of your Horcruxes had belonged to the Founders." Harry said, his voice assertive, speaking faster now; there was precious little time and he was so very close. "The Ring, the Diary; things that meant something to you, something personal. Sloppy again." Harry accused, his smirk widening. "There are few things you hold dear, so very few. Slim pickings. And you're so. Very.  _Predictable_."

"You can't have found her! I keep her always in sight!  _You lie_!" The Horcrux howled, all frenzy and hysteria and madness. The Horcrux had taken over the whole expanse of the room behind the magical barrier; the shields cracked further, bright gushes bleeding dark smoke. The shields were failing; Harry aimed his wand towards the Locket almost automatically, completely bewildered at the latest discovery. He tilted his head to the left once again.

" _Her_?" He mouthed, knowing the interrogation was already over. The Horcrux stilled for a fraction of a second and Harry could easily pin point the exact moment it realised it had been deceived into giving information. With an inarticulate cry and a final shove at the shields, it broke through at the very same moment Harry cast his spell towards the Locket. The smoke and the curse hit their targets simultaneously and Harry found himself propelled backwards as the Horcrux screamed in pain one last time. And, just as he prepared himself for the impact with the back wall, something cushioned his fall. Judging from his father's expression -and his wand that was pointed at him- it was easy to tell whose spell had spared him the broken bones.

For an extended moment, all that could be heard was heavy breathing as six people tried to get their hearts to function normally, their minds to start working again. Neville and Draco had collapsed on the floor. The Gryffindor was hugging his knees to his chest, head hidden against them as he breathed ruggedly, looking as if he was trying not to heave. Draco simply lay there, knees bent, hands extended backwards to keep him upright as he looked at Harry's general direction blankly. Ginny was slumped against the wall, one hand still gripping her wand tightly, the other one over her heart while Evy stood frozen with her own wand trailed at the now harmless Locket still. Severus seemed rooted on spot, staring at his son as if he would disappear at any given moment. It was the potions master, finally moving towards Harry, that broke all five out of the odd enchantment the Horcrux had cast upon them.

"Harry!" Severus exclaimed, hugging his son close for a few seconds before pushing away to check him over for injuries. The remaining four of the group pushed themselves off the floor and the wall and rushed towards the green eyed wizard themselves.

"What just happened?" Neville demanded from no one in particular, his gaze wild as he too tried to scan his brother for any wound.

"No way!" Draco exclaimed, kneeling next to Harry, placing a hand on his shoulder, his voice pitched high with shock and disbelief. " _No way!_ "

"Are you alright?" Ginny asked, not relinquishing hold of her wand yet.

"I thought… for a moment I thought…" Evy trailed off, looking at Harry, impossibly blue eyes wide and terrified. She shut her eyes tight and mumbled something softly in Norwegian. And even though Harry couldn't understand what it meant, to him it sounded like a prayer, spoken in a voice thankful and soothing. Harry closed his own eyes, his head throbbing from the insistent Legillimency attacks of the Locket.

"Ouch." Harry muttered, rubbing his temples gingerly, breathing slowly in and out. What had happened indeed, Harry thought, latching onto Neville's question. Nev always asked the right questions, he mused distractedly, trying in vain to focus on a strand of thought -any thought would do, presently- to begin processing the information overload he had received.

"Are you hurt?" Ginny repeated her question, voice now frantic.

"This Horcrux was either more skilled in Legillimency than the Ring or chose to apply it more liberally." Harry stated in place of an answer. "Could be the conversation itself, I don't know." He admitted. "My head hurts."

"You're lucky that's all that hurts." Severus declared, sighing and examining Harry's head for any internal injuries with a few silent spells.

"Nice catch, Dad." The green eyed wizard mumbled, smiling at his father. The potions master scowled.

"You could have been injured, Harry." He said sternly. "Seriously injured, so don't joke about it, please."

"I always knew there was a chance for that." Harry pointed out, trying to sit a pit straighter, despite his pounding headache. "Goblins' gold!" He exclaimed, clutching his head with his hands.

"So did I." Severus admitted heatedly. "It didn't make it easier to watch."

"I'm alright." Harry assured him. It was the words not spoken, the implied  _"this time"_ , that hung between them that scared Severus the most. The potions master had always thought that there was no possible way he could hate Voldemort more and every single time found himself surprised at the new depths of hatred and abhorrence the Dark Lord instilled in him.

"Bloody hell, Harry!" Draco exclaimed. "Don't scare me like that!" Harry laughed softly at his brother.

"Don't you dare laugh, Potter." Neville interjected. "Do you have any idea what it was like, watching you like that, not knowing what you'd say next or how to help you?"

"But you did help." Harry insisted. "Do you think I didn't notice that none of the shields collapsed, assault after assault, until I had nothing more to ask?" He thought on the concentration the shields must have needed, all the power and will to keep them in place and mused, not for the first time, that, perhaps, he got the less tiring part for himself. Just as nerve-wracking however, he decided, and possibly taking his father's extended hand to pick himself from the floor. Fighting back the dizziness, he regarded the people around him, one by one. "Thank you for having my back."

"Always, kid." Severus assured him quietly. In the ensuing moments of silence, Harry finally managed to get his mind into some semblance of working order. The events of the past hour floated back into his memory, question after question forming atop every new piece of information garnered. They accumulated in such a speed that Harry couldn't help but have the most pressing one of them all spill from his lips. He looked straight at his father's eyes and repeated his very last question to the Horcrux;

" _Her_?" Severus sighed in response, immediately catching on, probably having been worrying the same question in the back of his mind ever since the Horcrux uttered the word.

"Any ideas on what that meant?" Ginny asked, breath still slightly labored.

"None." Harry imparted. "None whatsoever."

"Good. So I'm not the only one completely perturbed by the idea of Voldemort having a girlfriend." Neville stated, five pairs of eyes staring at him blankly upon his proclamation. "What? You thought it too, admit it."

"If he  _does_  turn out to have a girlfriend, I'm giving up on everything and going to New Zealand to become a fancier." Draco declared emphatically. "I'll breed re'em." He added after a few moments of deliberation. It came as no surprise that vacant staring followed that declaration too.

"For a moment I thought you meant you plan to become  _fancier_ , as in  _more extravagant_." Neville admitted.

"Be serious, Neville!" Draco scoffed, looking at his brother imperiously. "Under  _that_  definition I can't possibly be any fancier. You frankly couldn't handle it."

"Why do I even bother?" Neville muttered, raising his hands in surrender. "And New Zealand, really?"

"I happen to think it's a beautiful country, Neville." Draco persisted, the four people in the room not included in the conversation observing the two teens in various degrees of confused bemusement.

"Still can't picture you in a farm." Neville deadpanned.

"That would be a hypothetical, parallel reality, in which Voldemort has a girlfriend." Draco explained. "So, yes, it is a bit of a stretch…"

"Mind you, Bellatrix Lestrange." Harry interjected, pointing at the blond Slytherin, as if to make a point.

"I'm sure I can find a nice expanse of land in a reasonable price, even at short notice." Was Draco's response. The following moments of silence were interrupted by a bout of nervous giggling, courtesy of one Ginny Weasley, that snowballed into a collective cacophony of howling laughter; it really did nothing to help with Harry's headache, but he couldn't care less if he tried. He didn't truly know what he would do without his brothers there with him, knowing just when to stop and give them all some time and space to breathe. He concluded he'd have driven both himself and his father crazy with anxiety by now.

Wiping a few stray tears from his face, Harry walked away from the still howling with laughter and pointed his wand to the locket on the floor. The wooden planks were singed where his curse had hit, a large horizontal slash having cut the wood -and the Locket- clean in half. The floor would be better left to the house elves, just in case Harry managed to make an even greater damage with his, admittedly, limited knowledge of household charms. But the Locket was now plain metal, and that he could repair.

He touched the tip of his wand on the blackened metal and thought of the incantation, focusing on how the Locket had been before it had met its unfortunate end; it wasn't hard to picture, considering he had near obsessed over it the past few weeks. There was no light show or fanfare as the metal of the pendant liquefied and reformed to its previous state. One more spell took care of the broken glass and, suddenly, Harry found himself staring the Locket of Slytherin again, free of Voldemort's soul, at last.

"You fixed it." Evy noted, blue eyes trained on the locket.

"It  _is_  an important historical artifact, after all." Harry explained, smirking at her. "I assumed you, of all people, would appreciate the thought. It also might prove useful in the future; the Horcrux practically flipped when it saw the Ring."

"Nothing  _practical_  about it!" Severus pointed out, eyes narrowing at the offending piece of jewelry. Important artifact or not, he wouldn't mind if it remained a puddle on the floor. Still, tactically speaking, Harry was right and the potions master couldn't help but feel pride surge inside his chest as he regarded his son.

"In all seriousness though," Ginny said, looking at the now harmless locket dangling from Harry's fingers, "who is " _she_ "? Who could Voldemort trust so much to have allowed her knowledge of two of his Horcruxes?"

"Lestrange?" Neville suggested, lips set in a grim line. He had always known that during the war he would run into her, eventually, but now that the prospect seemed more and more realistic, he wasn't certain he would trust himself if he was ever alone with her. Harry looked at him, eyes bright and determined and Draco approached him, elbowing him gently, as if to shake him out of his thoughts. Despite himself, Neville felt his lips twitch into a smile, suddenly realizing that finding himself  _alone_ against Bellatrix Lestrange was highly unlikely to happen, if his brothers had a say in the matter.

"It's more than that though, isn't it?" Harry asked, thinking back on the exact wording Voldemort's Horcrux had used, suddenly unsteady on his feet. Because, no, that was even more disturbing than the actual act of making a Horcrux. For it meant that he would have made not  _something_ but  _somebody_  into one and suddenly images of his first year, a man in a turban, and  _fire_ , so much fire, assaulted his thoughts.

"Harry!" Severus exclaimed, running forward to steady his son. "Harry, what is it? Are you hurt?"

"No, not hurt." Harry assured him, feeling the world spin out of control, his hands shaking. I just realised… Would you mind it if we returned home before I explained?" He asked, eyes shut tight, his headache redoubling. "I need to sit down, preferably not on the floor. And a few moments to try and stomach the implications." He added, hands entangled into his hair.

"Do you think you're feeling well enough to ride?" Ginny asked in concern, taking in the pallor of his skin.

"It will do me a world of good, I think." Harry admitted, the thought of fresh air suddenly more than inviting, the room stifling around him.

"Then let's get out of here." Neville urged them, opening the door. "I would do with some tea myself after this debacle."

" _Debacle_." Draco mimed, making his best attempt at sounding haughty; it was, admittedly, impressive.

"You make sounding condescending into an art form." Neville commended, slightly impressed.

"It took years of practice, you know." Draco confessed. "That and a healthy dose of natural talent."

"How's being naturally condescending a good thing?" Neville wondered out loud, looking at his brother in amusement.

"Because I said so. Quit smirking, Neville."

"Make me!"

"Children!" Severus admonished, recognizing the two teens' attempt to make lift his son's spirits and playing along, smiling at their antics. Whatever Harry had realised had hit him hard, to the point where he had fallen to a near catatonic state, walking almost blindly towards the stables. Still, he appeared to be paying some marginal attention to his brothers instead of losing himself completely to whatever nefarious plot of the Dark Lord's he had discovered.

"Do they do that often?" Ginny asked, catching on to their intentions.

"Yes." Severus affirmed. "Yes, they do. More often than what's good for my peace of mind."

"What peace of mind?" Harry wondered distractedly, completely missing the satisfied looks exchanged amongst his family at the face of his little quip. The potions master made certain they maintained some form of lighthearted conversation during the whole ride home, Evy, pitching in to help as best as she could, regaling them with stories from a dig at a three thousand year old magical settlement in Northern China she had volunteered at as a student, where their group had run into a team of Muggle speleologists.

"It was ridiculous, really." She huffed, recalling the incident. "It took the Archeology Department of the Chinese Ministry of Magic  _centuries_  to locate that settlement and some spelunking Muggles just stumbled into it. It was  _chaos_."

Harry couldn't truly concentrate on the story; he just allowed Ghaith's galloping to soothe his stiff muscles and used their conversation as background noise, warm and familiar, allowing his mind to relax and focus. He thought back to the Horcrux's admission. On the subject of the sixth Horcrux, the Locket had asked if he had found  _her_. Not it.  _Her_. A person. A living Horcrux. And he knew what he had to do to destroy a Horcrux and a living one -screams and smoke and heat and flames stretching to the ceiling- shouldn't be much different to dispose off, in theory. Which wasn't a comforting thought at all, really.

As they passed by the lake and Silbreith came into view, Harry found himself more and more lost into the memories of his encounter with Voldemort during his first year at Hogwarts. He had killed a man back then -to protect his twin, it was true but he had done it nonetheless. It had been an instinctual move, at the time. At eleven years old, all he had thought of was keeping Adrian alive; he hadn't indented to kill, not really. He had simply wanted Quirell to back off, to  _stop_ , and he had reacted. And a man had died. The reality of what entering a war meant wasn't lost to him. He was fully aware that killing was in the cards for his future; Voldemort, for one, would have to fall by his wand. He was already chipping away on that death, going through the Dark Lord's Horcruxes, killing him piece by piece without his knowledge.

Then there was the almost certainty of a fight too -a duel or a full front battle the effect would be the same- where he could be forced to take a life to protect his family or himself. He had even promised to do just that, feeling the burden of such an act at eleven years of age. But killing in cold blood? Aiming his wand taking a life as a means to an end -like he  _knew_  he'd have to should his suspicions prove to be correct- was something he could never picture himself doing, the very thought making him sick to his stomach. Not that there would be much choice, he mused, should things lead to that. He wouldn't allow his family to kill in his stead. He couldn't -wouldn't- ask that of them. If there was a human Horcrux, it would have to be destroyed for the Dark Lord to fall. Destruction of the vessel was the only way to do that. And if he passed the judgment, he'd have to cast the curse.

He led a nervous Ghaith -who had caught onto his master's troubled mind and was reluctant to let him go- to the stables and followed his family inside the castle. He allowed his father to lead him to the library numbly, lost in his ruminations. It was only when he found himself seating down automatically at the very spot he had occupied last night, having returned home from destroying the Ring that he realised he had to explain the reason behind his silence.

"It said  _her_." Harry explained without preamble. "When I spoke of the sixth Horcrux. The Locket said I couldn't have found her, she was always in his sight. She. Her. Not  _it_." He looked at the five stunned people around them. "I don't think the sixth Horcrux is an object at all. It's a person. A living Horcrux. And I have to kill her."

"But…" Draco was the first one to gather his wits enough to speak, and even then, only to utter his disbelief. "But he couldn't… and surely  _you_ _shouldn't have to_ -"

"I shouldn't have to but I won't really be asked for my opinion on the matter, will I be?" Harry interrupted him, face devoid of any expression, voice sarcastic.

"Harry, let's not get ahead of ourselves-"

" _Ahead of ourselves_?" Harry exclaimed, looking at his father in astonishment. "You were there, you heard it too!" He stood up from the bench and started walking up and down in front of the table despite still feeling the world spin. "Why couldn't an inanimate object do? Why did he have to use a person?"

"Because he's sadistic!" Ginny exclaimed, causing Harry's attention to focus on her momentarily. "I know that, you know that, we  _all_  do." She spoke emphatically, the memories of her first year forever clear in her mind. "But we can't be sure that that's what the Horcrux meant! And even if it did, there might still be a way around killing her, whoever she might be."

"The only way to destroying a Horcrux is to destroy its vessel." Harry countered. "Everything we've read points to that."

"But there must be a way around it!" Neville exclaimed, automatically turning to Severus for guidance. "There must be!"

"Ginny is right." Severus spoke calmly, looking at his son. He understood why Harry reacted this way to such a prospect, of course he did. Maybe he was the only one in their group that did, the only other one that understood the burden of taking a life. And he had been there after Quirell to pick up his son's pieces from the ground and help him put them back together. He had helped and Harry had glued back the pieces the best he could himself, but that didn't mean he couldn't see the cracks. "We're not sure if that's what the Horcrux meant. And don't think for a second that you'll have to go through that alone."

"I can't quite well go through it with company." Harry parried, arms wide open, lips pressed in a thin line. "I'm not going to have any of you kill for me in cold blood. I would  _never_. You know that. I won't turn you into murderers."

"Harry, what part of " _we're here for you_ " don't you understand?" Neville asked. "I understand that-"

"No, Nev, you  _don't_!" Harry exclaimed, feeling his anger towards the situation turn into cold, paralyzing fear; Neville couldn't understand and he shouldn't have to. His brother shouldn't even suggest aiming his wand to a person with intent to kill in his stead. "You've never had to kill in cold blood."

"And you've had?" Draco asked, looking at his brother in exasperation. "You've only ever protected people, Harry."

"Are we pretending my first year never happened now? Is that what we're doing?" Harry asked back, chuckling mirthlessly. He looked around at the five people in the room. Evy and Ginny were looking at him in confusion; he had, of course, told them that he had dealt with Voldemort when he was eleven but had withheld the specifics. Even Draco and Neville had never heard the complete story. Maybe it was time they did; maybe he should have told them long ago, before he had ever considered accepting their help. Did they not deserve to know just for whom they were putting their lives on the line, he mused. Shouldn't they know?

"Harry, please, you can't keep blaming yourself for that." Severus beseeched his son, knowing fully well the futility of his plea.

"I killed a man." Harry stated dryly. "Quirell might have been possessed by Vouldemort's soul at the time," he added, smirking at the irony, at how he would be forced to repeat the very same action he had sworn to himself never to repeat, for the very same reasons, "but he was very much alive and cognizant."

"You did it to protect Adrian." Severus reminded him. "He would have died, Harry, you know that! You can't keep treating yourself as a murderer; you know what I've had to do during the war. If you think yourself a murderer you should think the same for me." Seeing how his son was ready to complain, Severus carried on. "I know you'll insist it was the war and I was a spy and I did what I had to do. But so did you."

" _I burned him alive_!" Harry shouted, his head spinning, memories resurfacing. "I reacted to a threat and my first reaction as a child -not even twelve years old yet- wasn't to incapacitate. It wasn't even a clean death!" He extended his hands again, gesticulating, trying to make them understand, feeling his desperation flowing out of him in waves. He could see their eyes widening in shock, looking at him as they couldn't quite believe what they were seeing. Good, he thought. Now there would be no more talk of killing in his place.

"Harry…" Evy uttered, extending a hand to him as if to stop him.

"No, listen to me!" Harry stopped her, needing to tell them right there and then, knowing he might never find the courage to do so again. "You can't tell me not to blame myself when I can still see the flames in my head at night. I remember the screams and I remember the  _smell_  and allowing myself to forget will only make me a monster on top of a killer. I can't forget," he explained, "because I took a life and that should never be something one gets used to. So I've always reminded myself; I've always told myself that if I forgot how it felt, what would be stopping me from doing it again?  _Nothing!_ "

"Harry, please, calm yourself!" His father implored.

"Calm myself?" Harry asked incredulously. "Dad, I swore that the only person I'd ever kill like that would be Voldemort himself. I've always known it might come to killing someone during the war but murder in cold blood? Tracking somebody down with the sole intention of killing them?" He explained, hands clasping at his head, fingers twining through his hair, trying to soothe his pounding headache. "Only Voldemort. And now he's forcing my hand again. So, I beg of you, don't ask me to be calm." He pleaded, closing his eyes, feeling exhausted and suddenly very, very cold. "I can't be calm about this. What kind of monster would that make me?"

"Harry, look around you." The potions master entreated, his voice soft. Green eyes snapped open at the unexpected plea, Harry's trail of thought disrupted enough for him to realize there was something viscerally wrong with what he was seeing. What he had thought had been fear he saw in their eyes, didn't appear to be fear at all. Well, a little bit of fear too, but that wasn't the predominant emotion; the five people in front of him were looking shocked, that was true but in an awed way, in utter disbelief. And they weren't looking at him so much as  _around_  him. So, Harry looked around him too. And metaphorically froze. Apt metaphor, he numbly thought to himself, considering that's just what had happened to half the library. Not the metaphorical part. The frozen over part.

"What?" Harry muttered, hands slowly falling at his sides as he turned around to take a better look at the room behind him. Half the room -the half he had been looking at as he spoke- was as it had always been; bookcases upon bookcases filled to the brim with books, elegant carpets and furniture. There was even a strong fire burning at the hearth. The other part of the room, however, was a different story altogether. Ice had taken over everything; from the floors to the walls, creeping upwards to the ceiling in crystalline tendrils, covering everything in its path in glittering whites and blues. As if in a dream, Harry recalled what he had perceived as his fear and panic thrumming out of him to the room; not fear and panic at all, he realized belatedly, tasting his own magic in the crisp air. "What did I do?" He asked, looking at his father for guidance.

Severus, on his part, was looking at the room behind Harry in awe. Freezing spells were easy to cast but doing something of that extend without any incantation -silent or otherwise- was not. Doing something like that unconsciously? Damn near impossible. As far as acts of accidental magic were concerned, freezing half a room was unheard of; after all, what type of spontaneous reaction would justify such a feat? Besides, Severus thought, Harry was too old for accidental magic, had been using his magic consciously for far too long to have need for such bursts. Normally, this shouldn't be happening. And then he recalled other incidents of Harry's magic flaring out -like a cup of coffee boiling when his son got angry but then again  _this_  was on a whole different level- and his mind went ballistic. Was there something wrong with Harry's magic? Could it have anything to do with his interactions with the Horcruxes? He had just  _known_  nothing good could come out of those damn contraptions!

"Dad?" Harry asked, his tone just a tad more panicked, ice crawling upwards and towards the chandelier as he spoke.

"I'm not sure what's happening," the potions master admitted, walking closer to his son, "but you're controlling it, Harry. It's your magic; find whatever incantation you're casting and stop it." Harry's eyes widened at the thought, gaze travelling over the frozen room. "It's your magic, Harry." Severus repeated.

Harry, on his part, looked around him once more, his thoughts racing. How was he doing this? He hadn't thought of an incantation; he hadn't called upon his magic.  _How was he doing this_? Seeing no other way out than following his father's advice, Harry closed his eyes and tried to delve into his magic. To his surprise, though he hadn't cast any spell, the moment his mind calmed down a fraction he could feel his magic coiling outwards, turning into ice. It felt somewhat different than the spells he was used to casting. Rawer and unrestrained, as if there were no barriers between his core and the spell. Immediately, Harry disliked the feeling; he could feel the spell feeding from his magic to sustain itself even now, uncontrolled and unrefined, almost like a bleeding wound on his magical reserves.

Delving deeper into his magic, following the tendrils backwards and away from the ice, trying to stop the spell, Harry gasped. He hadn't had much reason to monitor his core lately, not after the Second Task, at least. And he hadn't been doing so routinely since he was thirteen and learning how to recognize magical traces; back then it had made sense to start from his own magical signature and go from there. Now, he found himself thinking that he should have paid closer attention. His core was in turmoil. Were there had once been calm waters now there were violent waves crushing hither and thither, turbulent winds over fluctuating magic. Finding the roots of the enchantment he was using -whatever it was- was harder than it should have been but he persevered. He cut them off, only then feeling the actual drain on his magic. He found himself faltering; stopping the spell had only marginally calmed his core. Whatever the issue was, it didn't lie with an errant curse.

"Harry?" His own name echoed in his mind, in the voice of his father. It was the potions master's hands on his shoulders that shook him out of his stupor. He opened his eyes; the ice was still there but he knew it would start melting soon, no longer sustained by his magic. His father's concerned eyes bore into his own as Severus tried to understand what had happened. "Harry, are you alright?"

"I… Dad, I'm not certain." He found himself answering truthfully.

"What happened?" Neville asked, his brother's admission enough to jolt him back into action, the very same moment Draco exclaimed;

"What's wrong?" Instead of answering immediately -for what could he tell them, really- Harry looked back at the ice.

"It's starting to melt." He observed, his tone flat. "We should get rid of it. It might make a mess of things otherwise." He looked around him again and winced. "More of a mess, that is." Severus was just about ready to ask his son to forget the ice -they could always deal with it later, after all- but he soon realised that looking at it unnerved his son even more. So he pulled out his wand and cast the spells necessary, Evy helping him out along the way, until the library was dry once more. "Better," was Harry's response to the whole endeavor, as he plopped onto an armchair by the fire; even though the ice had thawed, he still felt the cold. His brothers and Evy moved closer to him, Neville and Draco sharing a look before seating directly in front of him on the carpet, as if unwilling to let him out of their sight.

"Harry, do you think you can explain what happened?" Severus asked, looking at his son carefully, hoping the day wouldn't take yet another turn for the worse. Ginny stood from her chair silently, filled a cup with hot tea and held it in front of Harry, looking at him to make sure he understood it was for him. Nodding gratefully he took it from her and gulped some of it down, disregarding the heat. Anything to ward off the cold.

"With the ice?" He answered his father's question with his own. "I don't truly know. But my core's a mess."

"A mess?" Severus asked worriedly. "Do you mind if I-"

"Please, take a look." Harry interrupted his father, knowing what he'd ask. "Maybe you'll make some sense out of it." The potions master nodded and pulled out his wand; delving into another person's magical core required a spell; it was a delicate process of which -even if he wasn't an expert in core diagnostics- he could claim some proficiency, having learned it while training his Legillimency skills.

" _Cor Cordium Devele_!" Severus cast, the tip of his wand placed just above Harry's heart. He closed his eyes and gasped. He knew his son was a powerful wizard. He had always known and how could he not? Even if Merlin hadn't tipped him off when Harry was just seven years old, his son's magical signature spoke of that itself. But seeing signs of powerful magic and actually feeling the source of that magic were two different things entirely. It was staggering to say the least; with that amount of magical reserves that lay waiting inside him, it was a wonder how Harry didn't have incidents like that more often, Severus thought. Pushing back on his own awe, he tried to locate the source of his son's unease; that only served in getting distracted once more. If he had been staggered by Harry's amassed magic, feeling it move was indescribable. And terrifying; for, surely, it wasn't supposed to be like this. Tempestuous and restless, it was verging on aggression. Harry wasn't using it on anything at the moment; his core should be calm and still and it wan anything but. Letting go of the spell he had used, Severus looked at his son in worry.

"What's wrong with me?" Harry asked, the moment he felt the spell dissipate.

"Your magical core seems to be in unrest." The potions master explained calmly, not wanting to jump into conclusions just yet, despite his own fears. "I'm not sure what's causing it.  _Yet_." He hastened to add, practically feeling the anxiety oozing from his son. "But it does not seem to be of external origin."

"Then what is it?" Neville asked, rubbing his face tiredly, his heart heavier than lead in his chest.

"I can not be certain, Neville." The potions master admitted. "I can only speculate."

"I'm open to ideas." Harry stated, his gaze still vacant.

"Do you think Harry might showing signs of elemental powers?" Ginny, who had been mostly silent up to that point, asked Evy. It had been her first thought, the moment ice started spreading around Harry, thinking back on her introduction to the witches of the Sisterhood with similar gifts.

"No, I don't." Evy answered, having already considered and discarded the idea. "Harry, you said the spell felt abnormal and raw, like it was draining your magical reserves, correct?"

"Yes." Harry admitted. "It felt almost out of control, as if there was no barrier between the spell and my core. The best way I can describe it is like an open wound." He explained, green eyes wide. "As if I was bleeding magic through the spell. Does that mean anything to you?"

"It does." Evy said. "It means that, whatever you did, has nothing to do with any form of elemental control. From what I understand, controlling an element not only feels natural to the caster, it is also all about just that;  _control_ , bending a force of nature to one's will. Even in the early stages, when emotions get in the way, it shouldn't feel forced and definitely not like an open wound." She stopped, letting her words sink in. "Has anything like that happened before?"

"Not in this scale." Harry responded. "I did bring my coffee to a boil a few days back, I suppose."

"Not on this scale at all." Evy agreed, trying to put her thoughts to some semblance of order; what had happened before the ice? Harry had been frantic, angry. Definitely emotional. "When the coffee incident happened," Evy began, deciding pursuing that thought was worth a try, "were you angry too? Like now."

"We were talking about Fudge's insistence to cover up Voldemort's return." Harry recalled. "I was angry, yes."

"So that's it then?" Draco asked, looking around him for confirmation. "You get angry and your magic, I don't know, revolts?"

"It could be." Severus agreed. "Harry, you  _are_  fifteen after all. At that age your body  _and_  your magical core go through changes, from child to adult. Those changes make magic more volatile as a rule and with a core like yours…" He trailed off, pondering on the possibilities. They were entering a war and Harry was human; he'd get angry and often. Could those changes in his core endanger his life?

"Only right now," Harry spoke, looking up from his lap to his father, "I wasn't angry."

"You weren't?" Neville asked, looking at his brother in confusion.

"No." Harry answered. "You were considering murder in my stead. I was terrified. I was panicked, not angry." Silence followed his declaration as five people tried to stomach the newest information and integrate it into their theory.

"And Harry," Ginny asked, speaking carefully, considering every word, "how does fear feel? To you, I mean." Harry considered the question for a few moments; how  _did_  fear feel? Like fear, would be the easy answer. Wasn't fear an emotion by itself? He was just about to answer that when he remembered the exact moment he supposed he had started covering the room in ice. The moment he was feeling his most terrified and panicked he also felt-

"Cold." He voiced finally, looking straight at the redhead. "Fear feels cold."

"And anger?" She asked.

"Anger is hot." He answered, no hesitation this time. And yes, looking at the situation like that he could see the pattern forming.

"So it's  _every_  strong emotion?" Neville asked. "Not just anger?"

"Brilliant." Harry stated dryly, gaze vacant.

"If that's true," Severus said, looking at his son with worry, "that means your magic reads your emotions and translates them as spells." He explained. "The more intense the emotion, the stronger the spell. And since it's not a conscious process, the magic comes straight from your core, unfiltered, almost as if-"

"As if it's mainlining my magic to the spell, draining me." Harry finished his father's thought for him, aptly describing the feeling. Not having control over the amount of magic he exerted wasn't a feeling he'd like to repeat. He had gotten used to his magic obeying, flowing through him steadily. Sometimes slowly and sometimes torrentially, but always as he directed it. His magic was the one constant thing he felt he could fall back into when he was alone in battle. That ice spell had simply felt  _wrong_. Scratching and stinging and slashing all at once.

"But you said this is a transitional state." Draco spoke, looking at the potions master. "That his core is adapting. Changing from child to adult, right? Will this carry through Harry's teenage years?" Emerald eyes widened in shock.

"There's going to be a war raging for the remainder of my teenage years." He stated matter-of-factly. "It better not."

"It's hard to tell." Severus admitted. "Magical cores mature faster than our bodies, thankfully. The process doesn't always coincide with adolescence exactly either."

"It didn't start when I was thirteen, for me." Harry agreed, rubbing his temples slowly.

"Sometimes all it takes for a magical core to mature is a single event, a turning point if you will." The potions master explained. "Some kind of shock, perhaps."

"Haven't I been shocked enough in my life? Haven't I yet met the shock quota for one lifetime?" Harry exclaimed, his frustration winning over his fear.

"One would think." Severus stated tiredly, sighing deeply. "You'll need to make routine checks on your core daily, Harry. As far as we know, it's just your magic's reaction to growing up. The timing is atrocious-"

"When isn't my timing atrocious?" Harry asked rhetorically.

"-but there's very little we can do but wait it out." The potions master concluded. "Talking to the Horcruxes alone was stressing enough." He added after some thought. "Maybe your magic will calm now that the Locket has been dealt with."

"You did interrogate two Horcruxes in two days, after all." Neville reminded his brother.

"And despite everything, successfully." Draco added. "We know more than we ever did about Voldemort's Horcruxes. And we shouldn't jump to conclusions." He pointed out, not wanting his brother to spiral back into the same frame of thought as before. "We know the Diadem is a Horcrux."

"We know that Voldemort at age twenty three was planning to make the Diadem a Horcrux." Harry corrected him. "We don't know if he found it."

"He found the Cup and the Locket." Severus said.

"But not the Sword." Harry countered.

"He did accuse you of having found out about the Diadem from a woman though." Ginny reminded them. "Doesn't that mean he already knew where it was?"

"That's actually a very good point." Harry agreed, focusing on the Diadem and not the mystery woman the Locket had kept alluding to.

"Don't sound so surprised, Potter!" Ginny mock scolded him, a soft smile on her lips.

"And we know he was planning to hide some of his Horcruxes at Hogwarts and Gringotts." Draco said. "We haven't found any Horcruxes there yet. Well, excepting the Diary." He amended, frowning and looking at Ginny. "I know I'm not the one that should be saying this, Ginny, but I'm sorry for-"

"You're right." Ginny interrupted him. "You shouldn't be saying this and you have nothing you need to be sorry for and you don't have to apologize for your father. You didn't know what the Diary was. You didn't know I had it, let alone how I got it, and I don't blame you." She stated, her tone leaving no room for arguing. Draco looked at her shocked, still not used to easy acceptance and the concept of friendship with anyone else than his brothers. "Just to be clear though," the redhead added, noticing how the blond Slytherin didn't quite know how to react, "I can't promise I won't hex your father should the opportunity present itself."

"Quite fair." Draco agreed, smiling slightly.

"Draco's ridiculous drive to bear the burden of every single sin of his ancestors put aside," Neville commended, causing the Slytherin in question to chuckle, "he has a point. Do you think there could be a Horcrux at Hogwarts?"

"Or Gringotts for that matter?" Ginny added.

"We have a lot of work in front of us still." Severus muttered, rubbing his eyes tiredly. And thus commenced the first of the last nights of that summer that had, unknowingly to them all present in the library of Silbreith, marked the end of an era and the beginning of a new one. All six of the small group returned to their rooms that night in various states of unease, bone tired but scarcely able to sleep. Severus had given up on his attempts at a peaceful slumber and had instead taken to patrolling the hallway out of his son's room for half the night until reason prevailed, forcing him back to his bed for a few hours of troubled sleep. Harry himself was tossing and turning on his own bed, checking his core for any fluctuations every half an hour. From all the times his magic could have thrown a tantrum, he mused, it had to be now, on the eve of war. And as his eyes finally closed, hours after he had laid himself down to sleep, he swore to himself that he'd do his best to rein his rampant magic in until his core was back to some semblance of balance.

The following few days were, despite the most recent developments, surprisingly productive. Severus and Harry had spent every morning, monitoring the green eyed wizard's magic, or going for long rides around the grounds; horse riding had always had a calming effect on Harry's mind and Ghaith and Kadar had been more than happy to indulge father and son to their more frequent rides in the mornings.

Not wanting to focus on anything too much in fear it might further unbalance his core, Harry threw himself into everything, including the repairs at Orbein. The damages at the village were the most extensive -as Evy found out, after walking around the village non-stop for a day, parts of the infrastructure hadn't been repaired since at least the early seventeenth century- but, with Harry being there daily, the repairs proceeded in leaps and bounds. After Severus admitting they hadn't even found out the actual name of the village, if it ever had one, Evy, instead of being daunted -like any normal person would have been, as Draco commented- showed an astounding delight in delving into ancient contracts and maps until she discovered it.

"Andùn!" She proclaimed out of the blue, five days after she had shouldered her self-imposed quest, smiling like a loon as she rushed into the kitchen.

"And a very good morning to you too." Severus commented, blinking owlishly at her over his tea.

"The name of the village." Evy explained, smiling even wider. "It's Andùn. I personally think it originally was  _An Dùn_ , meaning  _hill fort_ , which I think is quite apt, yes?" She helped herself to some tea, smiling up to the bemused potions master.

"Do you always get this excited about history?" He asked, already guessing the answer.

"Of course!" And there you have it, he thought, smiling softly at the blonde. "It's history, Severus.  _History_." She intoned, looking at him as if he had gone crazy. "It's exciting."

"If you say so, Evy." The potions master responded, shaking his head in amusement.

Harry had found out about the village's name as he oversaw the draining of a marsh at the south most side of Andùn. Neville, who had opted to ride out and tell him the news himself, found his brother boots-deep in mad, ordering goblins around in Gobbledegook as if he had done it a thousand times before. Harry had chuckled at Evy's persistence, emerald eyes twinkling even as he cast a small scale fire charm to deal with some very insistent mosquitoes. The very same eyes rolled in indulgent frustration as he noticed Neville watching at him carefully, wanting to ask him something but not quite daring to. Knowing just what had his brother so worried, Harry beat him to the punch.

"My core is getting better." He said, looking at Neville. "Like I told you last night too." He added teasingly, knowing just how much he had managed to worry his family again. "It has calmed down progressively since the last Horcrux." Not that it had returned to its previous, natural state, however. The disturbance that had led to the "library incident" as it was mostly called lately, had simply been aided by the emotional rollercoaster caused by the Horcruxes. As the days went by, it had become more and more obvious that Severus theory had been correct. Harry's core was transitioning naturally and it was the very amount of his magic reserves that caused the actual disturbance. Had they not be entering a war, Harry might not have even noticed it, the potions master had realised. As things stood, all Harry could do was monitoring his core daily and hope his core would have matured enough by the time the actual war started. Keeping his head clear and calm was also advised, even if it seemed more and more difficult as the beginning of term approached.

Adrian was still unresponsive or right down hostile during the few times Harry had spent with him while his father was occupied at Order meetings. As far as the Horcrux hunt went, while they knew there was probably a Horcrux waiting hidden in Gringotts, Harry had resigned himself to having to wait until the first open hostilities for searching the vaults. But Voldemort was still laying low and, if there was yet another Horcrux waiting for them at Hogwarts, they would have to follow his lead and wait for the term to start, if they didn't want to draw even more attention to their actions.

That didn't mean they remained passive. Every night, the four teens gathered together at the library and tried to think of any place, nook and cranny suitable for hiding a Horcrux at the school. Despite the obvious choice of the Chamber of Secrets, they were getting nowhere. Hogwarts was vast and had many possible hidding places available for something as small as the Cup or the Diadem.

I don't think Voldemort would have simply chucked his Horcrux at the first hiding place available though." Ginny insisted. "I mean, think about it; he had been meaning to use Hogwarts as a hiding place for a Horcrux for years. Wouldn't he have come up with a place that was both rarely visited and secure? Somewhere he could place the same amount of protective enchantments he had used on the Ring? So many spells; you'd think Dumbledore, in the least, would have stumbled upon them by now." She added, looking at a floor plan of the school's fourth floor, as depicted in  _"Hogwarts; A History"_.

"We're back to the Chamber, then?" Neville asked, looking at the people around him expectantly. "Is there any other room of the castle that might have been out of Dumbledore's reach for all these years?"

"If there is, it should be on the Marauder's Map." Harry concluded, feeling his temper flaring just like it wasn't supposed to. Adrian had taken the incident with Draco and Neville borrowing the map to visit his twin to the infirmary quite bad. Harry had even returned to the Potter Manor in an effort to look at the map, only finding his twin had taken it and his whole trunk with him to the Headquarters. And even there, he refused leaving his twin from his eyes, fearing Harry would do Merlin knew what if he was left unattended.

"Still no luck with the map then?" Ginny asked, wincing at the grimace on Harry's face. She had been recently informed of the map, what it did -impressive feat of magic, especially for Hogwarts students, she thought- and how Adrian had apparently decided to not even let his brother step within a mile radius from it. Personally -after the irate Neville and Draco had filled her in on the Potter twins' interactions and Adrian's recent attitude towards Harry- she thought the elder Potter twin could do with a good slap to bring him back to reality.

"None whatsoever." Harry admitted, making Ginny grimace in commiseration. Because, yes, as the youngest and the only girl in a family with seven children, she often found herself at odds with one of her siblings. But they were family, even at their most obstinate; and say what you will about the Weasley clan, she mused, but, when it came down to it, they stood by each other through thick and thin. Adrian willingly pushing away his twin -and in such an asinine way- was completely foreign to her. The thought of pushing away one of her own brothers like that was unfathomable. Imagining Fred and George willingly fighting with each other? Not even within the realm of possibility. Thank Merlin for Neville and Draco, the redhead mused, trying to come up with something to take Harry's mind from his twin; as much as she wanted to hex Adrian, Harry shouldn't have to worry about him too, at the moment.

"Do you think you could find a way to enter the Chamber of Secrets without Dumbledore noticing?" She asked.

"Not really, no." Harry responded, looking thoughtful still, but with his brow unforrowing. "He's had his eye on the entrance since the end of my second year. But I see no way around it; if we can't find any other place where a Horcrux might be hidden, we'll need to come up with a distraction for Dumbledore."

"Besides, I doubt he knows you have the ability to open the Chamber." Draco pointed out.

"And his phoenix would cover for you, wouldn't he?" Neville asked.

"Fawkes?" Harry spoke, contemplative once again. "He might, I can't be certain. I have an inkling he doesn't agree with some of Dumbledore's decisions and helping me is his way to show that."

"I think the question here," Draco spoke, "is where could a Horcrux be hidden if not in the Chamber of Secrets?"

"The Slytherin Common Room?" Neville suggested. "Nobody has access but the Slytherins and Voldemort clearly feels like their rightful king." He turned towards Draco then, quirking an eyebrow. "Have you seen any ornate cups marked with Hufflepuff's coat of arms lately?"

"Dozens of them." Draco answered, equally sarcastic. "Though there's always a chance. Do you think we should sneak you into the Common Room, Harry?"

"We could." Harry assured him. "I'll grab the cloak and follow you, if I must." Rooms were discussed and discarded and so the days passed. Severus had taken to paying visits to the Ministry, supposedly overseeing the trials for his healing potions; he was making the officials testing the potions nervous, he could tell, but he wanted to be close to Fudge if he wanted to at least glimpse at what he had planned for the immediate future. If Thicknesse and Malfoy were guiding his hand, he wanted to know what they would be up against before it was too late to do anything about it. Surprisingly, it was Evy that supplied him with news on Fudge's agenda, on the morning of the last Friday before the beginning of term.

"Severus?" Evy's voice sounded from the corridor outside the kitchens, announcing her entrance. She walked into the room, a letter with the official seal of the Ministry of Magic in her hands. Her brow was furrowed, as the potions master had noticed it always was when she was trying to remember something and failing.  _"Why do I even know that?",_  he asked himself, failing to come up with as sufficient answer as Evelyn interrupted his musings, pointing at the letter in her hands. "Do you know a Ministry official by the name of," she paused momentarily to skim through what appeared to be a five pages long letter, "Dolores Umbridge?"

"I fear I do, yes." Severus admitted, alarm bells chiming in his head at the memory of the pink clad, shrill voiced toad of a woman. They had met once or twice, of course, and he had read her work; she had been dropping hints of supporting the idea of pureblood supremacy for years, despite never openly speaking for it. "Why?"

"The Minister thought it prudent to inform me that he was proceeding with his educational reform as planned and, for that purpose, he had assigned the new Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts himself." Connecting the dots, Severus groaned, rubbing his eyes tiredly; was the Defense Against the Dark Arts position cursed? Because  _Umbridge_? He had a feeling he might actually find himself missing Lockhart and he had never thought he'd steep that low.

"Is Fudge a complete moron?" Severus asked before sighing again. "He is, of course he is." He answered his own question. "Never mind that."

"Is she that horrible?" Evy asked, seating herself across him on the table, accepting a cup of tea from Minnie with a smile.

"From what little I know of her, Miss Umbridge is favourable to wizard supremacy over Muggles and magical races alike and partial to Voldemort's pureblood manifesto." Severus stated. "She's also never openly spoken in favour of either and has been Fudge's secretary for decades. She has his complete trust."

"Wonderful." Evelyn stated, voice dripping with sarcasm. "How was she ever considered viable as a choice for a teaching position? Doesn't the Headmaster have a say in this?"

"He used to." Severus admitted, sipping at his coffee. "But this educational reform, whatever it will entail, seems to have robbed him of that." His thoughtful expression turned into a smirk as he recalled the indignation Dumbledore had expressed on booting Binns in favour of Evy a few weeks back. Correctly interpreting his expression -and further befuddling him in the process- she rolled her eyes.

"Dumbledore wanted to keep the ghost professor, didn't he?" She asked, the potions master's deep laughter serving as her answer. "Figures." She mumbled, focusing on her pancakes and muttering what Severus was almost certain were insults in rapid Norwegian under her breath. That was just the scene Harry walked into; Evelyn scowling at her pancakes and his father smiling softly at her. Feeling his own lips tugging upwards to a smirk, Harry walked into the kitchen, trying his best not to let his mind frolic on the field of matchmaking plots. This was a private matter of the highest order and he wasn't going to intervene no matter what. Still, he found himself smiling widely at Evelyn as he sat next to his father with his own breakfast, wishing her a good morning.

"I think Fudge is an imbecile and Dumbledore's an enabler. Good morning, Harry." Was her way of greeting him back, making the teen's smile that more radiant. Severus chuckled over his cup of coffee, shrugging his shoulders slightly showing he had nothing to contest her statement with.

"I agree." Harry stated. "What brought this on?" Instead of answering, Evy handed him the letter and kept scowling at her pancakes with renewed vigor, a pastime Harry soon joined her at. "Is Fudge a complete moron?" He asked, causing both his father and Evy to chuckle besides everything. "What?"

"Nothing." Evy assured him. "It's just, that's exactly what your father," she said tilting her cup towards the potions master, "said too."

"That's because it's the truth." Harry assured her in turn. Ginny's arrival marked the beginning of a few rounds of explanations on who Umbridge was that ended with Draco asking;

"Wait, I think I've met her; constantly dressed in pink and vaguely toadish?"

"Yes, exactly." The potions master answered, chuckling at the apt description.

Their group parted ways on Saturday afternoon; Neville, Ginny and Evy returned to their respective homes to pack for the school year. Draco, however, remained at Silbreith, his mother having sent him everything he'd need from the Malfoy Manor, after a few lengthy letters.

"You miss her." Harry stated that afternoon, as they stood on Orbein's tallest balcony, looking at the goblins working away at Andún. Harry was planning on returning to Orbein over the next few weekends to oversee the final construction works completed and add the last wards remaining to the castle and its grounds. The private floo network connection to Gringotts had been established only a few days ago, linking Harry's new vault to a large fireplace on the east wing of Orbein. The east wing where, coincidentally, an infirmary had been set up; they were in the process of stockpiling the supplies needed, importing them anonymously from abroad when it was deemed necessary. Severus, in his limited free time, had been supplying healing potions, Evy taking up the mantle and helping with the brewing the best she could.

"She's my mother." Draco replied by the way of an explanation, not taking his eyes off the village in the distance. "Of course I miss her. But I understand I can't be home right now and so does she." He sighed and changed the subject, copying his brother and leaning on the rail. "So, how's Andún coming along?"

"Quite well, actually." Harry answered, smiling softly. The almost rebuilt village was coming along nicely and he couldn't help but feel some measure of pride for such an accomplishment. "We're expanding, as you know." The goblins, after discovering the long abandoned quarry by the far side of the grounds, had been a force to be reckoned with, building and repairing with unprecedented vigor.

During August, the Minister had made the first -misguided if you asked Harry- attempt to intricate himself into the workings of Gringotts. Recognizing Fudge's attempt for what it was, the president of Gringotts had contacted Harry via Nagnok, asking if he needed additional help with his efforts. Nagnok insisted more manpower could be demanded but Harry, who opted on keeping things on the down low as much as possible, simply asked for better rates for his rebuilding of Andún. With orders of their President to do whatever Harry asked, the goblins had been determined to not only rebuild the village but make it deserving of Orbein. They had rebuilt everything, from the houses to the city hall and a theater -that had never been completed to begin with, the ambitions of some past Lord of Orbein having been disrupted most likely by war- to perfection.

The potions master, upon realizing there were two architects among the goblin team, had had the brilliant idea to make rebuilding a competition between them. Dropping a few hints here and there, on which architect he considered the best, he then stood back and watched in amusement as the rumors spread. Suddenly, Harry was bombarded with plans for added stories and improved building facades, practically free of charge, citing goblin pride over their craftsmanship. The young Lord of Orbein had decided to fully take advantage of the offers and Andún had benefited from it.

Apart from the general aesthetics of the village improving -the current style, according to Evy, being a stunning amalgam of renaissance and medieval architecture with belle époque elements- the overall housing capacity had increased too, Andún looking more and more like a small town than anything else as the days passed. Sometimes Harry thought it almost a pity that the contracts they had signed would automatically obliviate the goblins once he released them from service.

"Should we need it," Harry stated, "we could now house up to one thousand five hundred people. The goblins being the competitive creatures they are, thrice that much when the new district is completed by the end of September." He smirked ruefully at the thought, as sounds of the ongoing constructions carried with the wind. "Still nothing considering the two millions of wizards that will find themselves in the middle of war. And that's only in this country." He shook his head. "I wish the Ministry would react.  _Do_ something."

"From what I understand," Draco said, looking at his brother, taking his eyes from the construction process of one more bridge connecting the old district with the new, "this is much more than what we had during the last war."

"We didn't have much notice that there would even  _be_ a war last time." Harry countered. "This time we do and we're even less prepared. It's unpardonable."

"We'll do the best we can." Draco insisted, looking back towards the village. "And damn the Ministry;  _we'll_  be prepared." Smiling sadly, Harry nodded, conceding to his brother's point.

"I still say Fudge's a moron." He added after a few moments of silence.

"Who claimed the opposite?" A scandalized Draco answered, the two teens sharing a look before bursting out to laughter.

And as such, the last day of summer dawned, finding Harry ridding through Andún, supervising the new buildings before he left for school. The very thought of returning to Hogwarts felt surreal in his mind, the concept of going back to class as of nothing was amiss, befuddling. While the majority of his peers would be solely interested in their OWLs and everyday troubles, he'd have to juggle schoolwork and war preparations while trying to keep calm. Harry sighed at the thought, signing yet another list of approved buildings for construction, vaguely registering a paragraph that wrote something about a park. He hoped there would be no equivalents of the library incident at Hogwarts.

That very afternoon, Severus and Harry were joined by Draco at the balcony overseeing Silbreith's lake for their now customary iced tea on the last day before they left the castle for Hogwarts. The words weren't spoken, but the thought that this might just as well be their last calm summer afternoon before the war wasn't lost to either of them.

"To a new term." The potions master said, lifting his glass to a simple toast.

"To a new term." The two teens agreed, watching the sunset in utter silence.

Despite the ominous times that lay ahead, the morning of the first of September dawned bright and warm. Trunks packed and goodbyes said, Harry followed his father and Draco to the fireplace and flooed to the Leaky Cauldron from where a towncar awaited them to take them to the station.

"You know," Harry mused, a smile etched upon his lips, "this is actually the first time I didn't return to Potter Manor for the beginning of term." His mother had sent him a letter a week prior to inform him that they would be departing from the Headquarters instead of Potter manor this year. Harry, in turn, had explained that he had arranged to go to the platform with Draco, believing that they would be returning to the manor as per usual. And since Draco was not allowed to the Headquarters -and he couldn't just leave him, he was the one that had invited him over for the holidays after all- they would have to meet at the platform instead.

The letter Lily had sent back had been short and rather embittered, but acquiescent. It had also been followed by a lengthier one, written by one James Potter, that had arrived only the night before. James had tried to impress upon his son the importance of family, filling his letter with not-so-subtle mentions to the coming war and even less subtle questioning of Draco's motives for befriending Harry. Draco, who had been reading the letter over Harry's shoulder, lowered his eyes to the floor, blushing in embarrassment. It had become steadily clearer to him, just how much his father's actions were impacting on his life and how much he would have to strive to change the reputation of the Malfoy family. Severus advised the young Slytherin not to think too much on the subject and darkly stated that James was very quick to forgetting his best friend's last name -and the reputation of his family that boasted being pure, "untainted" of inferior blood.

Harry had chosen not to comment on the letter, to throw it in the lit fireplace and simply take his brother to the kitchens for a late night bawl of ice cream. Or rather, that's what he had thought of doing, before his very magic decided otherwise. With his temper flaring his magic followed suit, the letter burning in his hand before he even rose from his chair to approach the fireplace. Draco and Severus had stared at him in mild shock while Harry sighed resignedly, for once not minding the uncomfortable feeling on his magic acting out, considering the end result quite worth it. Needless to say, he hadn't even bothered with a perfunctory response to Prong's missive.

"It's the first time I didn't leave for Hogwarts from home too." Draco admitted. "Not that I mind, considering the circumstances." He added, smiling ruefully. The remainder of the ride was spent in cheerful conversation, the three wizards not wanting to think of what expected them at Hogwarts -possibly a Horcrux, definitely Umbridge- or having the driver overhear anything he shouldn't. Severus had given them a swift introduction to the duties they'd have to undertake as Prefects, all the way to the barrier to the platform; the two teens had charmed their robes into Muggle clothing, lifting the charm only after they entered the platform, Prefect badges already pinned on their lapels.

"Harry, Draco!" Neville's voice echoed the moment they stepped foot on the other side of the barrier. Neville, who was dressed in his robes himself, left his grandmother's side to greet his brothers, smiling brightly. Augusta Longbottom, however, didn't share his exuberance, her eyes hardening upon landing on the blond of their little group, Harry noticed. Not wanting to say anything before they entered the train, he greeted Neville instead, his eyes scanning the platform for his twin and the large group from Grimmauld Place. Neville, noticing in turn Harry's cursory gaze towards both his grandmother and the platform, said;

"Adrian hasn't arrived yet. And remind me to tell you something once we board the train."

"Sure thing, Nev." Harry assured him, pushing his trunk towards the train, greeting a few people here and there. "Let's find our seats shall we?" Then his eyes brightened as he caught a glimpse of silvery blond hair, the very same glimpse that Neville had been surreptitiously trying to catch himself. "Oh, look Nev; there's Luna."

"Where?" Neville asked, suddenly animated, swiftly turning towards where his brother was pointing at.

"You're hopeless." Draco commented, rolling his eyes even as he smiled at his brother's antics. "Go. Harry and I will take care of your trunk."

"You're sure?" Neville asked, already heading towards the Ravenclaw.

"I'll help them." The potions master assured him, smiling at Neville's retreating back.

"Hey, Luna!" The brown haired Gryffindor called, causing his family to chuckle as they carried on towards the train.

"Aw, look how cute they are!" Harry commented, grinning widely.

"Now, don't you go teasing your brother, Harry." The potions master admonished mischievously, knowing fully well that Harry was going to do just that, should the opportunity arise. "If you do, he might retaliate someday."

"He's been laughing on my expense during the whole of Fleur's stay at Hogwarts last year." Harry defended himself. "But I promise I won't tease him too bad."

"I can promise the same." Draco assured them both. "Luna is kinda awesome actually, so there's not much to tease him about, other than that stupid grin on his face." The blond commented, thinking back on his imaginative rescue during the Yule Ball last term.

The three wizards levitated their trunks and owl cages onto the train and into an empty compartment, returning to the platform after making sure everything was settled, Harry casting a nifty seal on the doors to keep them locked, just in case. Chuckling at their youngest's antics, the three wizards stepped down the train, their gazes soon landing on silvery blond hair once more. Only this time, it wasn't Luna.

"Oh." Draco mouthed, eyes wide as he looked at his parents for the first time in over a month. His father was standing straight and proud as always, a permanent smirk edged on his face. Draco bristled, knowing exactly why that smirk was put there; his anger was only fanned to a near inferno as his eyes landed on his mother; Narcissa Malfoy was looking around her frantically, her normal poise abandoned, dark circles under her gray eyes. She was looking for him, Draco realised. She was scared, almost panicked, and his father didn't care.

"Easy, Draco." Harry spoke softly, placing a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder.

"He doesn't get it." Draco spat, his eyes the colour of rainclouds before a storm as they clashed with the emerald green of his brother's. "He still doesn't get it." There was no need to specify whom he was referring to. Lucius Malfoy stood tall and unrepentant, his ice blue gaze oozing contempt as it landed on the newly arrived group from Grimmauld Place.

"Barzûln!" Harry couldn't help but cursing, practically feeling the two groups getting on collision course. Severus and Draco, who had noticed the catastrophe in motion themselves, froze into place, waiting for the inevitable.

"Merlin, help us." Neville's voice echoed from their left, Harry turning his gaze to his brother and Luna momentarily, nodding his head in complete agreement.

"What hap-" Luna didn't even need to complete her sentence as she caught sight of the Malfoy and the Potter patriarchs gazes' meet. Showing the sharpness of wit that had her fitting so well in the house of the clever and bright, she tucked herself closer to Neville's much taller frame and asked; "Is there nothing we can do to prevent the train wreck?"

"I don't think so." Harry muttered, his expression set on grim determination. "Maybe we can run some damage control." He added, walking purposefully towards the gathering storm, just as James, Sirius and Mr. Weasley moved towards the ever smug Lucius.

"Why, what do we have here?" Lucius' voice was heard clearly as they drew near, oozing sarcasm as he addressed the three men.

"Save it, Malfoy!" James spat. "It surprises me you even dare to show your face in public."

"Whatever do I have to fear, Potter?" The blond answered imperiously. "I'm here to see my son off, like you are." He said. "Well, not  _you_." He added, looking contemptuously at Sirius. "You don't really have a family to see off. Purged from the family tree, weren't you?" Sirius snarled, held back at the last minute by Remus who had placed himself strategically next to his impulsive friend.

"How dare you, Malfoy!" James exclaimed, reaching for his wand.

"Father!" Draco called, moving swiftly past Harry, effectively placing himself between the two wizards. "Mother." He greeted a relieved Narcissa too, smiling softly at her before turning his gaze back to his father, schooling his characteristics to perfect neutrality. "Did you just arrive?"

"Yes." Lucius answered, his smug smirk returning upon observing Harry coming to stand behind Draco and Adrian casting his twin a scathing glare, James' jaw tensing outward as he ground his teeth at the display of solidarity between the two teens. "Your mother and I wanted to wish you a good term since you've been having such a great summer you didn't return home for a  _month_." The elder Malfoy stated, looking at James who bristled at the implication; a month away from Malfoy manor meant a month spent with his youngest son after all. "And we run into… well." He concluded, waving at the assorted crowd with an elegant flicker of his wrist. James, Sirius, Remus and Arthur Weasley were standing straight and imposing, a living wall between the Malfoys and the rest of their group that was remaining a few steps back, in various degrees of anger. Severus and Harry, Neville and Luna a few feet behind them, were positioned to the right of Draco, caught right in the middle of the conflict.

"You see, I simply had to stop and chat." Lucius carried on. "I've heard some very interesting rumors about a certain member of your family, Arthur," he said, eyes travelling over the other members of the Weasley clan present that had huddled together to hide Ginny, the member he obviously talked about, from his sight, "circulating around the Ministry, but I considered them false." He smirked at the rapidly turning crimson Arthur. "You see I'd have been informed of such a momentous incident first hand. Why, a few weeks back, I attended the Minister's annual summer gala," Lucius said, glaring coldly at the potions master who stared back unflinchingly, "and there I made and acquaintance that would have confided in me…"

"Nothing." Ginny's voice echoed from somewhere behind Ron, as she sidestepped her family to approach Lucius. There was no point in hiding, after all; the members of the Sisterhood were publically known and maybe this was a way to end this fight before it devolved into fists and curses. Also a way to wipe that smirk of Lucius' face, Ginny thought. Harry smiled mischievously as the petite redhead walked, calm and collected, her lilac gaze locked with the shocked pale blue eyes of the Malfoy patriarch.

"W-what?" Lucius asked, stuttering almost imperceptibly under the calm gaze of the girl whose life he had once endangered. Narcissa too, stared at the confrontation wide-eyed, stepping just a little closer to her son.

"I'll hazard a guess it was me the rumors referred to?" Ginny asked, now standing next to Remus.

"What?" Lucius asked once again.

"She's in the Sisterhood, you know." Ron's voices echoed from where he stood, between Adrian and Hermione. "Didn't expect that, did you?"

"Might come as a bit of a surprise." Adrian chimed, looking at Draco before turning to his twin. "She told us a few days back," he added, as if explaining the situation to Harry, an unmistakable self-satisfied expression on his face, making Harry's blood boil at the pettiness, "but you weren't around, so…"

"Harry?" Ginny intervened, not having quite forgotten what Neville and Draco had told her of Adrian's treatment of Harry. "Oh, Harry's known about this," and she pointed at her eyes, "for a while now. We've been writing to each other over the summer." And she reveled at the stunned expressions of her family for a few moments before she added; "What? Am I not allowed to write to my friends now?" She rolled her eyes and focused her attention back to Lucius who, she noted with no small degree of glee, had yet to gather his wits enough to do anything other than a very accurate charade of a goldfish. "As I was saying, Evy wouldn't have mentioned anything without my permission. We're a very close-knit group." She added conspiratorially.

"The Sisterhood?" Lucius asked, all his bravado gone.

"Yes." Ginny answered slowly, as if afraid he wouldn't understand her. "Evy wouldn't have mentioned me. She certainly didn't mention you." She added, smirking as Lucius' blank expression was replaced with shock and then with fury in rapid succession. "She did mention you though, professor." Ginny addressed Severus, dealing Lucius' pride the killer shot, smiling widely all the while. The potions master shook his head in exasperation, quite enjoying how the news were steadily driving Lucius to apoplexy.

"Evelyn of Norway?" Sirius interjected, unable to help himself. "You know Evelyn of Norway?"

"Let's assume neither Evy nor I imagined a whole night out of our lives." The potions master answered dryly, belatedly realizing just how his sentence sounded out of context. He shut his eyes in mortification for a moment, knowing that any attempt at changing his phrasing now would only make thinks worse. Harry tried to unsuccessfully mask his chuckling as a cough, while Lucius turned to glare at Severus.

"Draco," the elder Malfoy growled, his voice authoritative, "we're leaving. You can return to your  _friends_ ," he intoned, using the word as a weapon, looking at a nearly spluttering James, "momentarily." And he spun around, walking away swiftly, his dark green travelling cloak floating behind him.

"Come, Draco." Narcissa's voice sounded, much softer than her husbands, as she too walked away.

"I-" Draco began to apologize for his father's actions, his words dying on his lips as James approached him.

"I don't know what game you're playing," James said, he and Arthur both scowling at Draco, "but I'll be damned before I leave Lucius'  _spawn_  mess with  _my son_. Whatever plan of your master's you're carrying out won't work, mark my words, Malfoy!"

"James!" Severus' voice boomed, in a clear warning, eyes dark and cold as he stepped closer to the blond teen instinctively. Neville copied the potions master with an indignant cry, Ginny and Luna -always empathetic- freezing on the spot, looking at James in shock before turning to Draco. Harry could feel his pulse thrumming at his temples, he could practically _taste_  his magic revolting at James' accusations. Draco, despite having paled completely, noticed just how his brother was clenching his fists, eyes blazing an Avada Kedavra green, and decided to intervene.

"It's fine, professor. Really, it's okay." He said, smiling softly at the potions master, his eyes trailing towards Harry as he nodded reassuringly. He turned towards James again, breathing deeply before he addressed him. "Mr. Potter." He said simply, with as much dignity as he could muster, inclining his head as good manners dictated. "Mr. Weasley. Professor." He nodded towards Lupin and, because he felt the day he'd find himself in Sirius' shoes was swiftly approaching, he faced the dog animagus last, smiling sadly. "Cousin." He greeted him, turning towards his parents. "Harry, Nev, I'll see you on the train." And he walked away swiftly, leaving behind him a group of people, faces frozen in expressions of fury, mortification and any emotion in between.

"Damn it, James!" It was the potions master that snapped out of his shocked induced silence first. He took three steps forward, bringing himself inches away from the Potter in question, standing straight in his full height, towering over James, face contorted in fury. James took an actual step backwards as he looked up, being reminded quite forcefully that Severus was actually taller than he was. "Did you really need to do that? What were you even doing? Asserting power over a fifteen year old boy?"

"I-" James stuttered, eyes widening at the face of Severus' anger.

"You  _nothing_ , James!" The potions master spat. "Before you go accusing _children_  of allying themselves with the Dark Lord ever again," he all but snarled, his right hand reaching instinctively for his wand, "do remember that the family one comes from doesn't determine their character. I thought you already knew as much." He concluded, looking pointedly at a pale Sirius. And with another contemptuous glare, one also directed at an already cowed and guilty looking Arthur, he stepped back breathing in deeply. "I'll be waiting by the train." He said, eyes beseeching as they locked with his son's. Harry understood perfectly; his father's hand still lay inches by the hilt of his wand and staying in James' presence any longer would likely guarantee curses would start flying. So he nodded, breathing deeply to calm himself, trying his best to avoid setting anything on fire. As Severus walked away, Harry turned his own scathing gaze towards James.

"I hope you're satisfied." He stated tightly.

"Harry, I didn't mean to-"

"Draco hasn't been staying over for recreation this summer, you know." Harry interrupted him, moving closer as not to be overheard by the curious bystanders that had already started to pay attention ever since Lucius had all but run away in a tiff. "Do you understand what I'm saying?" He asked, not wanting to elaborate while in a public setting, especially with Lucius nearby. He didn't need to. The implication was clear to all, as James turned to look at Sirius who had paled even farther, if that was possible; the dog animagus had, after all, ran away from home too once, seeking shelter with his best friend.

"We should be getting to the train." Ginny suggested suddenly, breaking the tension that had been mounting, trying to extricate Harry from a situation that could only guaranteed his anger to flare. "We won't be able to find seats together otherwise."

"We've been saving a compartment, actually." Harry said, looking at Ginny thankfully, taking the way out she had provided.

"How?" Neville asked, going from glaring at James to looking at his brother curiously, catching on the redhead's intentions.

"I may have locked a couple of doors." Harry explained, turning his back on James and their previous conversation. With not as much as a look back, he started walking towards Hogwarts Express, sighing in relief when nobody made to call for him.

"Is that even allowed?" Neville wondered, waving at Draco who was walking purposefully towards them, his other arm around a still shocked Luna's shoulders.

"I'll take some points from Gryffindor later if that'll make you feel better, Nev." The green eyed teen said. "Prefect, remember?"

"Let's not be hasty." Neville piped back, smirking as they approached Severus, Draco catching up to them.

"Let's just get out of here." The blond muttered, rubbing his eyes tiredly.

"Don't let them get to you, Draco." The potions master advised softly. "Nobody can dictate what you're worth but yourself." The blond Slytherin smiled and nodded at that, shoulders straightening almost imperceptibly as Neville punched his shoulder playfully in a show of support.

"I personally think it's very brave," Luna spoke for the first time since the confrontation had started, "taking a stand, considering everything." Draco started at her words and the quiet way they had been spoken, smiling not only at the support the girl provided but also at the ridiculously proud grin that Neville was directing to the younger girl.

"Quite Gryffindor of you, actually." Ginny commented mischievously, nodding in absolute agreement. "Must be all the prolonged exposure to these two." She added, pointing at Harry and Neville.

"Oi! Worse things could happen!" Neville protested. "And is "exposure to Gryffindors" a thing now? Are we saying that?" Draco snorted, shaking his head at his brother's antics.

"We are." Harry confirmed. "Be thankful for Sev balancing things out for you, Draco." A shrill, whistling sound echoed in the platform, signaling the train was about to depart. With the potions master's help, Ginny and Luna's trucks were loaded onto the train, the group of students waving Severus a temporary goodbye. Harry breathed in deeply as the train departed, trying to calm down, pushing back the wave of magic trying to scratch its way out his body. If this incident was any indication to how this term would go, he mused, he might just have burned down Hogwarts by June. He looked out the window in silent contemplation;

"Here's to hoping I won't." He muttered to himself, watching King's Cross fade away.

 


	76. Second First Impressions

The five teens had barely managed to get comfortable in their seats when Hermione approached their compartment, knocking on the glass panel. Harry stood up and unlocked the doors, sliding them open. She looked around the compartment, taking in the assorted crowd, frowning slightly. Harry resisted rolling his eyes and cleared his throat, getting her attention back to him.

"Can I help you with something, Hermione?"

"We should head to the Prefects compartment." She explained, eyes flickering towards Draco, her frown returning for a split of a second. "It's on the first carriage and the meeting's about to start."

"Oh, that." Harry said, smirking as he ran his fingers through his hair; for a moment he had feared Adrian might have sent her to help stage an intervention or something equally ludicrous.

"Ready, Draco?" He asked, turning towards his brother.

"Might as well get it over with." The blond Slytherin declared, just as much unwilling to leave. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say as Hermione frowned for a third time, eyes narrowing.

"It's a privilege to become a Prefect and a duty to the school that must be…" Harry raised a hand to interrupt her unable to resist rolling his time this time.

"It's alright Hermione, we understand, really." The green eyed wizard assured her, turning to glare at Neville, who was chortling from where he was lounged on his seat, one arm wrapped lazily around Luna, the girl appearing quite content to lean into him, head pillowed on his shoulder.

"I hate you, Longbottom." Draco voiced Harry's thoughts, making Neville laugh louder.

"Go on, you high and mighty Prefects!" Neville proclaimed dramatically. "Leave us unprivileged individuals here, anxiously awaiting your return." And he propped his feet on Harry's vacated seat, Luna muffling her laughter on his chest. Ginny was giggling at the spectacle while Harry sighed a long suffering sigh.

"No,  _I_   _hate you_ , you don't understand." Draco repeated the sentiment dryly, his attempted scathing glare ruined by the upward twitching of his lips.

"No, I get it." Neville assured him smiling the widest grin in his arsenal.

"Harry, we're leaving!" Draco declared, imperiously exiting the compartment his robes flowing behind him as he walked, followed by the laughter of his family and friends.

"I'm surrounded by comedians." Harry stated, looking at Hermione earnestly. The girl blushed slightly under Harry's green gaze; the wizard in question smiled at her and then turned to smile even wider at the three people still in the compartment. "Be back in a few."

"We'll be here." Neville assured him. Harry nodded and walked to stand next to Draco, waiting for Hermione to follow them out so they could leave. The walk to the prefects' carriage was filled with small talk on Harry and Draco's side, mostly quidditch orientated, while Hermione spent the same amount of time, looking at the two wizards furtively, regarding their camaraderie with narrowed eyes. When they did reach the carriage, they found the Head Boy and Girl already there, alongside all the Hufflepuff prefects, most of the Ravenclaws and the sixth year Slytherin prefects, who Draco greeted with a wide smile and a wink. The two exchanged a confused look; they hadn't ever truly spoken to Draco besides the occasional greeting, the majority of Slytherins trying to steer clear -as discretely as possible, they were  _Slytherins_  after all, they had _tact_ , thank you- from the children of widely known supporters of Voldemort. Neither side had ever tried to breach that gap, even as the years went by, and, as a result, Draco had never spoken more than a few sentences to the older prefects.

Harry smiled encouragingly at his brother and greeted everyone he remembered meeting before in the room by name, introducing himself to the ones he hadn't officially met. Draco was only too happy to follow his brother's example, effectively shocking everyone in the room. The meeting went as expected after that, rounds and responsibilities distributed equally to the twenty four prefects. They were given the password to the prefects' bathroom -Harry smiled at the memories of last year, mouthing  _cedar shower gel_  to Draco who tried coughing to cover his laughter- and the office allotted to them for meetings on the second floor of the castle. Their curfew, they were notified, was two hours later than the rest of the students' and Harry figured he could find ways to put those two extra hours and his rounds to good use; after all, having a legitimate excuse to snoop around the castle at night could only help with the Horcrux hunt.

Their meeting adjourned, Harry and Draco excused themselves and returned to their compartment just in time to catch the cart. Now armed with chocolate, the two newly minted prefects rejoined their brother and friends who had been, apparently, talking of animagi. Harry smiled thinking back on the day when Neville and Draco took the potion to find out their animagus form, should they have one. Ginny had joined them as all the witches of the Sisterhood were tested and trained, should they prove to have the potential. The green eyed wizard laughed lightly at the memory; Draco, who had easily caught up to his brother's train of thought, rolled his eyes and sighed, unable to stop a soft smile from forming on his lips. Just who  _hadn't_  been surprised of the results that day?

Ginny had turned out being a fox. Evy admitted that most Sirens that also possessed the ability of developing an animagus form turned out to take the shape of a fox too; their new history professor was a snow fox herself, and assured Ginny that she would help her every step of the way.

"I don't even know why Sirens turn out to be foxes, you see." Evy had explained. "One would have expected a songbird or something similar, but there you have it!" Harry had wondered ever since just how Ginny's ability as a Tamer would come into the mix in the long-haul; they would have to wait and see, was the general consensus. That animagus form, despite its seeming incompatibility with the inherent ability it was related to, was the least surprising of the day.

Draco had gone next, taking the potion with determination etched on his face, even as his eyes closed shut. When they opened again, his determination had been completely leeched from his expression, having been replaced by utter shock and confusion.

"C'mon, Draco, speak." Neville had urged his brother, trying to not project his anxiousness at the silent Slytherin. "It can't be that bad, can it be?" And he paused for a second regarding Draco, eyes widening. "Look, it's okay of you don't have an animagus form, who cares, really-"

"No, I have one." Draco assured him, managing a weak smile. "Just not one I expected."

"If it's one that unnerves you, you don't have to use it." Harry assured him, his hand falling comfortingly on his brother's shoulder. Slowly snapping out of his shock, Draco only smiled brighter, eyes crinkling at the corners as what had started as a soft smile soon turned into a grin and then into uproarious laughter.

"Unnerve me?" He asked, now practically vibrating with joy. "Are you kidding? I'm dying to see how  _certain people_  will react to it though!" And he started laughing freely again, Harry and Neville sharing a befuddled glance, despite smiling at their brother's happiness.

"For Merlin's sake, Draco," Severus had exclaimed, "what is it?"

"I'm a lion." Draco answered, stunning everyone to silence, chuckling again. "A white lion, to be specific." He elaborated. "Me! Can you believe it?" The stunned silence was prolonged for a few seconds longer until it was broken by Neville's enthusiastic whooping. Prolonged exposure to Gryffindors indeed, Harry mused, smiling fondly at the memory as he took his seat across Neville. Neville's form had been just as interesting and further proof that their whole family had a flair for the ostentatious.

"So?" Harry had asked his smug looking brother.

"I'm a bear." Neville had proclaimed, puffing out his chest, standing in his full height, as if he was instinctively trying to transform into his animagus form.

"Huh." The potions master had interrupted their scrutiny, nodded in comprehension. "It would make some sense."

"Because he seems to be ever growing?" Draco asked, cocking an eyebrow and finding himself on the painful end of an elbow to the ribs for his quip.

"Protective instincts a mile wide too." Harry interjected, not disputing his brother's explanation. "Mama bear." He added, smirking at Neville as the rest of their little group chuckled.

"Whatever. I'm awesome." Neville proceeded to inform them, laughing alongside his family as his proclamation set in.

"You know," Luna said, snapping Harry back to the present, "it's quite interesting that, while becoming an animagus is illegal unless you register, nobody cares to monitor the production and consumption of the potion required to start training. It's not like many people can brew it!" She added looking at Harry calmly; it was times like these that reminded the green eyed wizard that Luna was ridiculously clever and usually observed and understood much more than she let on. But before he could manage to even form the words to speak without giving out too much, Luna smiled comfortingly at him and turned to Neville, who was regarding her with wide eyes; and Harry was reminded why Luna observing and seeing probably more than she should could potentially only harm  _herself_. She didn't have many friends but those who she did have? The girl cherished them. "My mother was one of those few." Luna added, leaving them all speechless. "I'm not saying that my parents have been encouraging me to complete my animagus transformation," she carried on, "but if they had, I would be able to tell you that my form would -hypothetically speaking, of course- be a bluebird." And she smiled wider at Neville's stupefied expression, kissing him on the cheek before shaking her head fondly.

"A bluebird?" Ginny asked, smiling even wider than her blond best friend. "You know, somehow, I can see that."

"Thank you." Was Luna's only answer. Neville looked at Harry, and then back at Luna, opening his mouth as if he was dying to say something before closing it again as if he had reconsidered, repeating the process a couple of times until Harry made his decision.

"You know, always hypothetically, I venture I'd be a wolf." Harry offered conversationally.

"I think that would suit you." Luna stated, after a few seconds of partially shocked, partially amused deliberation. "Always hypothetically, of course."

"I think I would make a decent fox." Ginny followed Harry's example with a wide smile on her face. "If nothing else, I'd fit right in, what with my hair and all!"

"I would be a lion." Draco stated, matter-of-factly, Luna's eyes widening marginally at the mental image. "Just for the pleasure of seeing the shock on people's faces." He admitted, smirking mischievously.

"And I'd be a bear." Neville proclaimed, hugging Luna little closer.

"Oh." Luna muttered, smiling up at the brown eyed Gryffindor. "Yes, I think that would suit you too." And then she smiled bright turning to all her friends. "You know, hypothetically, we'd all be breaking some serious laws."

"Well, as long as it's all  _hypothetical_." Draco drawled, sending the occupants of their compartment to peals of laughter. Maybe, they should tell Luna, Harry mused. It's not as if they were keeping the secret from Voldemort any longer. And, most importantly, now there was Orbein. If things got too ugly, there was a place where Luna could be kept safe; although, Harry admitted to himself, as he got to know Luna better, he could see there was more to her than met the eye. The dreamy expression she always wore like a shield slipped and the girl under that was one that could hold her own at any battle, with the correct training. Maybe telling her would be just the right thing to do, even if only so her training could commence all that sooner. Neville, for one, Harry mused, would voice no objections. Wanting to broach the subject to his father first, Harry joined in the current conversation.

Ginny was speaking of Evy, explaining to Luna how she would be their new professor of History of Magic. After pondering a bit on how that would affect the attendance at class of the sixth and seventh years' students, the conversation turned, as was natural, to one Dolores Umbridge.

"I've read some of her articles," Luna said, her brow frowning in a mild disgust. "She isn't very fond of the muggleborn, or of the other magical races."

"She isn't very fond of anything," Ginny interjected, after a collective moment of thoughtful silence, "other than herself. And she uses herself as the measure with which she deems others worthy or not, unsurprisingly finding them lacking, I think."

"And now she'll be teaching at the greatest primary educational institution of the country." Harry mused.

"When Fudge said he was aiming for educational reform," Draco spoke, "what did you think he had in mind for her?"

"I don't, not for a single moment, believe Fudge could have come up with the idea of a reform by himself." Luna stated calmly and, taking the silence that met her words as confirmation enough, added; "So, what could Lord Voldemort," and closing her eyes tightly for a few seconds seemed to be her only adverse reaction to speaking the name out loud, Neville beaming with pride at her, "have thought when he called for an educational reform?"

"Taking power from Dumbledore?" Draco proposed, shrugging. This too, was one of the many subjects that had been discussed at Silbreith on the last weeks of the summer.

"And having a stepping stone into Hogwarts through the Ministry." Neville added.

"Let's not forget how all this must look to the average wizard." Harry concluded. "Imagine you knew nothing of what had happened last June but what you've heard of from rumors, impressionable youth, the Ministry and the Daily Prophet. Who would you believe? Because that's what's happening right now; the only one that's spoken publically of Voldemort's return is Dumbledore. All rest is hearsay since, the moment he realized how the Ministry was reacting, Dumbledore asked for nobody else to take a public stand, quite possibly preferring to keep some of his own people in key positions inside the Ministry for the time being. Now, all the public sees is the Ministry trying to run damage control to the actions of a once great wizard that's started losing it in his dotage; Fudge appears to have held a strong, firm stand on Voldemort not being back, without having fired Dumbledore yet, showing he's trying to regulate the issue without being overly disrespectful. If anything, with how the Daily Prophet's been painting Dumbledore, Fudge is rather coming out as mellow and sympathetic."

"If one overlooks how the Ministry has been behind most of these articles anyway." Ginny said, pressing the heels of her palms over closed eyelids. "Fudge hasn't been this popular since the end of the first war."

"True." Neville stated, nodding in agreement.

"Do you think there's any chance the Ministry will change tactics any time soon?" Luna inquired.

"Not unless Voldemort does something so glaringly obvious and in such a public setting there could be no disputing his return." Harry rubbed his temples soothingly, all the while cursing the Minister inside his head. "Voldemort's supporters in key positions in the Ministry are ready to cover for him at any time and Fudge is ready to believe anything they say and willfully promote it publically, as long as he can carry on believing Voldemort's dead and buried."

"We won't know what hit us." Luna muttered, settling closer to Neville.

"We can only do our best to prepare for what's coming." Harry agreed, lips pressing together. "And hope Voldemort does something befitting his megalomania soon. Which is a prospect I hate, have I mentioned how much I hate it, lately?" He asked, turning towards his brothers.

"No more than a hundred or so times." Neville stated the very same moment Draco asked;

"Lately, as in  _today_?"

"Ha-ha." Harry mocked, despite some genuine mirth at their attempt to lighten the mood. The train ride carried on in a relatively jovial atmosphere, the conversation revolving mostly around a few funny stories from the dragon shelter in Romania and what happened to the dragons after the first task, predictions of Umbridge's classes and a quick summary of the currently prevailing theory on the origins of magic, courtesy of Harry -who had read on the subject on his own and at his Ancient Magic course- and Ginny -who had made a point to ask Evy about it the moment she realized just how little their school curriculum had covered.

By nightfall, the train had already started slowing down, signifying their arrival at Hogwarts. Despite the rather bleak predictions for the coming year, Harry couldn't help smiling a little at the sight of the grand castle. A moment later, of course, Adrian passed by them, glaring at him with a passion, causing Harry to roll his eyes and soldier on to the carriages, leaving Draco and Neville glaring daggers at the back of his twin's head in retaliation.

"I honestly can't bother at this point." Harry stated, smiling ruefully, the very moment Neville opened his mouth to speak, probably to suggest some form of retribution for what Adrian had put his brother through during the past year.

"You should see how Percy's been acting lately." Ginny said, earning a commiserating look from Luna who had, apparently, already heard the story.

"Percy?" Harry asked, as the five teens climbed into the carriage that would take them to the school.

"Yes." Ginny nodded. "He's working at the Ministry, as you know, and he decided to take Fudge's side on everything." Silence fell inside the carriage.

"He  _what_?" Draco asked, blinking owlishly.

"He didn't." Harry echoed the sentiment of all three wizards.

"But he did." Ginny assured them. "He'd been, apparently, getting more and more distant the whole summer and finally announced he was siding with the Ministry yesterday, over diner." Ginny smirked and shrugged; her family had always been a close knit unit. She had believed it would always remain so, despite the coming war. Perhaps  _especially_  because of the coming war. Percy's reaction still didn't feel real to her. "He tried to coerce me to side with him, now that, as he put it, I'm a member of the most esteemed coven in the world, to which I had to remind him that no, thank you, the Sisterhood takes no sides at any war." She grimaced. "He laughed, saying there is no war and I kindly answered that there would soon be one. He stormed out after that. Mom's taken it pretty bad." She added after a sort moment of silence.

"Ginny, I'm sorry, I had no idea." Harry muttered as the carriages started moving.

"How could you have?" Ginny responded, smiling humorlessly. "I hadn't told you. I needed some time to stomach it first."

"How's that going for you?" Harry asked.

"Right now it isn't going at all." The redhead admitted, shaking her head. "But you know what?" She asked, her smile turning a bit wistful. "Sort of dragging him home by force there is nothing I can do. He has to make his own decisions. I can't think for him. I just wish he'll stay safe." Then she frowned, looking at Harry apologetically. "And you really don't need to hear that from me."

"That's what friends are for. You've been hearing about Adrian for much longer." Harry pointed out.

"As it stands, I'd rather we talked about something else." Ginny admitted. Harry knew the feeling only too well.

"Hmm…" Neville hummed once before nodding, as if deciding on something, and turning to Harry. "My Gran thinks I should better start hanging out with, as she put it,  _the other Potter twin_. Apparently, she distrusts the company you've been keeping."

"Goblins' gold!" Harry exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air, admitting surrender. Draco paled slightly, gaze lowering to the floor, hands balling into fists.

"That's what I said before reminding her that the company you've been keeping for the longest time is, basically,  _me_  and that, above all, should be indicative of our other friends." And he elbowed Draco playfully, the blond smiling slightly at him, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. "Then I informed her that I'd rather stick with the younger Potter twin and my present friends, thank you, and if she had any objections to that then she'd be at least a hypocrite as she's been urging me on being decisive and loyal to my friends since I was old enough to talk." Nobody smiled wider at him in the face of that proclamation than Luna.

"Sorry about that." Draco muttered.

"I'll punch you." Neville responded gleefully. Draco rolled his eyes and added;

"Thank you for the support though."

"What did you expect?" Harry asked in turn. "You're stuck with us, we've already told you as much. It's also lovely to see not only the Potters are a prejudiced lot. I do feel a bit less hopeful about the future of the wizarding community of this country now."

"If you find the subject distressing, we could always return to the lovely prospect of having Umbridge as a teacher?" Neville offered, making Draco snort in thinly veiled disgust.

"Our conversation topics are depressing already and the term hasn't even started yet." The Slytherin commented. "What a year this is shaping up to be!" The sarcasm in his voice was an almost tangible thing, naturally amusing Neville to no ends.

"Cheer up, Malfoy! This term might surprise you yet." The brown haired Gryffindor proclaimed, elbowing his brother playfully. "It can't be as bad as Mr. Pessimistic over there," and he pointed at Harry who huffed indignantly at the accusation, "makes it up to be, I'm sure."

As luck however would have it, it was.

If anybody had bothered to ask Harry for his opinion, he would have eagerly supported his theory of how gossip was the only thing in existence that traveled faster than light. He would have supported this theory by simply cocking an eyebrow and pointing at the entirety of the student body of Hogwarts -minus the, as of yet, unsorted first years- that had uniformly broken into whispering from the moment Adrian, Evy, Umbridge and -much to her displeasure- Ginny had stepped into plain view. The different compartments of Hogwarts Express and the fact that Evy had mainly been known to them through rumor and newspaper articles only fed the gossip mill especially about the two students and their new History of Magic professor. The fact that Evy was seated next to Severus and conversing quite animatedly with him -she had the same animated air about her Harry remembered from when she had passed on information about Andûn, so he guessed the subject to be history again- the potions master smiling amusedly at her, only served to intensify the whispering.

Umbridge was quietly talked of too, Harry noted, chortling loudly when, while passing by a group of Hufflepuff students, he heard a boy he vaguely remembered from last year's Sorting describe her as: "Wait, you mean that oddly bullfrogish lady in the bubblegum-pink taffeta-contraption is our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?" Making a mental note to award two points to Hufflepuff once the term started officially on account of excellent character judgment and highly imaginative descriptive abilities, he made his way to the Gryffindor table, saying his goodbyes to Luna and patting Draco on the shoulder. Draco winked at him and Neville and proceeded to sit next to the sixth year Prefects of his house, soon engaging them in what appeared to be a pleasant conversation.

The three Gryffindors took seats next to each other, chatting mostly about the OWL exams and Harry's experience with one already. Harry, of course, didn't miss how Adrian made a point to sit at the furthest seat available from him, lacking however the incentive and willingness to comment upon it and feeling decisively uninterested in actually doing something about it even more. The bubble of gossiping only intensified around them, at least until Ginny glanced around the table after a particularly loud comment and rolled her eyes -that had coincidentally been the reason for said comment- in exasperation.

"You know," she said in a clear, if somehow miffed tone, "being in the Sisterhood is something I take pride in and certainly nothing I'd wish to hide but pointing at me is plain  _rude_." And she locked eyes with Lavender that had been doing just that.

"Hear, hear!" Neville exclaimed, Fred and George hasting to rise in her defense in their own, unique way, assuring everybody within hearing range that Ginny's now lilac eyes didn't take away from her glaring capabilities; and you wouldn't want to find yourself in the course of those, they concluded. That they were prepared to prank and/or hex anyone that made their baby sister uncomfortable may or may not have been implied.

At the other side of the table, Seamus appeared to be content with staring holes at Adrian, hailing the beginning of what Harry feared would become a blown out argument before the night was through. He recalled Seamus' mother worked for the Ministry of Magic and that had probably put him in a position to only hear the Ministry's slander concerning Voldemort's return. Just what they needed, Harry mused. Angry parents with their children's best interests at heart, making certain their offspring wouldn't even consider believing anything other outside the Ministry's directions.

And, while his heart screamed and hollered at the injustice of it all -proper preparation could be what saved their lives in the end and the Ministry was using their own parents to prevent them from having it- while he wanted to stand up and yell the truth at their faces, his dealings with goblins and his father's tutoring on relevant subjects urged him for a more diplomatic approach. Which was horrible, really, because such an approach called for a) a probable lack of cursing on his part -verbal or magical, who cared at this point?- and b) waiting to observe their actual actions before working out a suitable reaction.  _Waiting_ , of course, being the verb which marked the root of his problem.

Thankfully, no matter how much Seamus and Adrian seemed eager to scream at each other, the tension was broken by, surprisingly, Ron, who had noticed Hagrid was not amongst the teaching staff. Instead, his usual spot on the teacher's table was occupied by Professor Grubbly-Plank. His twin, Hermione and Ron started whispering frantically to each other, obviously knowing something more behind the reason of Hagrid's disappearance. Severus had mentioned that Hagrid was to be sent to his giant kin, to try and bridge the differences between them and their side. The green eyed wizard winced at the thought; Hagrid could appear scary to an outsider but he was one of the kindest souls Harry had had the privilege of meeting. Sending him to the giants, while it  _did_  look logical on paper, might not have been the best solution imaginable. Either way, Harry figured, as the door opened and the first years tripped into the Great Hall, Hagrid could take care of his self if needed be. The man kept those caterpillars from hell as pets, after all!

The buzz of talk in the Great Hall faded away. The first years lined up in front of the staff table facing the rest of the students, and Professor McGonagall placed the stool carefully in front of them, then stood back. The first years' faces glowed palely in the candlelight. A small boy right in the middle of the row looked as though he was trembling. Harry recalled, fleetingly, how terrified he had felt when he had stood there, waiting for the sorting that would determine to which House he belonged. Thank Merlin for his father being there! The whole school waited with bated breath. Then the rip near the hat's brim opened wide like a mouth and the Sorting Hat burst into song:

_In times of old when I was new_

_And Hogwarts barely started_

_The founders of our noble school_

_Thought never to be parted:_

_United by a common goal,_

_They had the selfsame yearning,_

_To make the world's best magic school_

_And pass along their learning._

" _Together we will build and teach!"_

_The four good friends decided_

_And never did they dream that they_

_Might someday be divided,_

_For were there such friends anywhere_

_As Slytherin and Gryffndor?_

_Unless it was the second pair_

_Of Huffepuff and Ravenclaw?_

"My, the Cap has really put some effort to his song this year." Neville mused. "Ours didn't rhyme half as well!"

_So how could it have gone so wrong?_

_How could such friendships fail?_

_Why, I was there and so can tell_

_The whole sad, sorry tale._

_Said Slytherin, "We'll teach just those_

_Whose ancestry is purest."_

_Said Ravenclaw, "We'll teach those whose_

_Intelligence is surest."_

_Said Gryffindor, "We'll teach all those_

_With brave deeds to their name,"_

_Said Hufflepujf, "I'll teach the lot,_

_And treat them just the same."_

_These differences caused little strife_

_When first they came to light,_

_For each of the four founders had_

_A House in which they might_

_Take only those they wanted, so,_

_For instance, Slytherin_

_Took only pure-blood wizards_

_Of great cunning, just like him,_

_And only those of sharpest mind_

_Were taught by Ravenclaw_

_While the bravest and the boldest_

_Went to daring Gryffindor._

_Good Hufflepujf she took the rest,_

_And taught them all she knew,_

_Thus the Houses and their founders_

_Retained friendships firm and true._

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony_

_For several happy years,_

_But then discord crept among us_

_Feeding on our faults and fears._

"Does the song sound a bit longer this year or is it just me?" Harry asked, looking at his brother and Ginny in mild confusion. And has the song ever been so focused on how the Founders had been close friends before their fallout? Not that he disagreed with the sentiment, of course.

_The Houses that, like pillars four,_

_Had once held up our school,_

_Now turned upon each other and,_

_Divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while it seemed the school_

_Must meet an early end,_

_What with dueling and with fighting_

_And the clash of friend on friend_

_And at last there came a morning_

_When old Slytherin departed_

_And though the fighting then died out_

_He left us quite downhearted._

_And never since the founders four_

_Were whittled down to three_

_Have the Houses been united_

_As they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here_

_And you all know the score:_

_I sort you into Houses_

_Because that is what I'm for,_

_But this year I'll go further,_

_Listen closely to my song:_

_Though condemned I am to split you_

_Still I worry that it's wrong,_

_Though I must fulfill my duty_

_And must quarter every year_

_Still I wonder whether sorting_

_May not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_

_The warning history shows,_

_For our Hogwarts is in danger_

_From external, deadly foes._

_And we must unite inside her_

_Or we'll crumble from within._

"Go, Cap!" Ginny muttered, while Harry nodded in agreement. That was some enchantment on that old hat right there, he mused.

_For ours is an age and era_

_Where great power works unseen._

_And even those who're very close_

_Are much more than one might glean._

"Did it just…" Harry croaked, looking at Neville and Ginny in befuddlement.

"It did." Neville nodded, his own eyes widening as he surreptitiously looked around him for anybody that might be staring at his brother. A glance towards the Slytherin table and Draco's shocked expression -should his eyebrows rise higher they would become one with his hairline, Harry was certain- was enough to assure himself Draco had caught the insinuation too. Harry then turned to his father who was sporting the perfect poker face, while Evy stared, unblinking, at the Cap.

_I have told you, I have warned you..._

_Let the Sorting now begin._

"Thanks awfully, mate!" Neville mumbled, clapping with more force than necessary at the song. "Perceptive little bugger."

"Quite." Harry agreed, hoping the Cap's words wouldn't cause him any undue trouble. From the way, however, Seamus was glaring at Adrian once again, he felt somehow reassured at how the final verses of the song could be misinterpreted. The Sorting carried on, with the students of every House applauding for their new members.

It was only after the last student was sorted and the food served that Nearly-Headless Nick went around explaining how the Cap, staying all year-long at the Headmaster's office as it did, probably heard a lot of what went on in there. And it was present during the basilisk ordeal, Harry realized; no wonder it knew so much about what went on at Hogwarts. Maybe he should take initiative and try talking to the Cap? It was doubtful that it would provide him with any information, as the last time they'd spoken -in his own Sorting- the Cap had made a point of stating it didn't share information. Still, a try couldn't hurt.

"I can't wait for Dumbledore to introduce Evy." Ginny said, looking towards the staff's table. Evelyn had shrunk as far away as it was polite from Umbridge -who seemed intent on conversing with her- almost falling onto Severus who looked on the unfolding scene with mild amusement.

"Do Professor Snape and Princess Evelyn really know each other?" Fred asked, following his sister's gaze. A brief silence fell across the people close enough to overhear the question, before more questions rose to fill it.

"They know each other?" Lavender asked, eyes glinting.

"What do you mean they know each other?" Dean pondered.

"How?" A fourth year girl whose name Harry couldn't recall wondered.

"They met each other at the Minister's ball over the summer." Ginny stated calmly before turning her gaze steadily towards her fellow Gryffindors.

"What, that's it?" Lavender queried eagerly. "C'mon Ginny, you must give us more than that!"

"I surely must not." The redhead responded, lilac eyes intent on the older girl; Lavender froze at her seat and Harry found himself fully appreciating the effectiveness of Ginny's glaring. The Weasley twins had been absolutely right, it seemed. "Evy is my sister." Ginny carried on, undeterred, her voice taking on an authoritative tone; whether it was part of the package of how she glared at people or her Siren gift shining through, Harry couldn't tell. "And I will neither talk behind her back nor allow others to. If, however, you feel the absolute need to know more about her or Professor Snape, all you have to do is ask them." She added, smiling kindly. The terrified silence that followed her suggestion lasted, so, considering that conversation over, she returned to her wild cherry cheesecake.

"Evil as ever." Harry commented when the table around them tentatively returned to the standard level of chattering -with the glaring exception of the still petrified Lavender- Neville chuckling over his apple juice.

"Yes, well, constant vigilance and all that." Ginny responded, truly smiling for the first time since the platters were filled. A couple of minutes later the plates disappeared from the table and Dumbledore stood for his customary speech.

"Well, now that we are all digesting another magnificent feast, I beg a few moments of your attention for the usual start-of-term notices," said Dumbledore. "First years ought to know that the forest in the grounds is out of bounds to students -and a few of our older students ought to know by now too." And if only you knew, Harry mused.

"But it's such a charming forest." Neville mumbled next to him, chuckling pleasantly.

"Mr. Filch, the caretaker, has asked me, for what he tells me is the four hundred and sixty-second time, to remind you all that magic is not permitted in corridors between classes, nor are a number of other things, all of which can be checked on the extensive list now fastened to Mr. Filch's office door. We have had three changes in staffing this year. We are very pleased to welcome back Professor Grubbly-Plank, who will be taking Care of Magical Creatures lessons; we are also delighted to introduce Professor Umbridge, our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher." The applause was polite, even if a bit hesitant, most students staring at the excess of pink on their new Defense teacher. "And finally, a very warm welcome to her Highness, princess Evelyn of Norway, who will be taking over the History of Magic lessons." This time the applause was uproarious, not only because of Evy being who she was and thus a novelty the likes of which nobody had expected so soon after the Triwizard tournament, but also because her teaching History of Magic meant Binns wasn't. Evelyn smiled and waved at the students before turning to Severus and saying something that had the potions master chuckling and shaking his head fondly at her.

"Bloody hell." Ron muttered a few seats across Harry causing him to smile even wider.

"Tryouts for the House Quidditch teams will take place on the-" Dumbledore continued only to break off, looking inquiringly at Professor Umbridge. As she was not much taller standing than sitting, there was a moment when nobody understood why Dumbledore had stopped talking, but then Professor Umbridge said, " _hem, hem_ ," and it became clear that she had got to her feet and was intending to make a speech. Dumbledore only looked taken aback for a moment, then he sat back down smartly and looked alertly at Professor Umbridge as though he desired nothing better than to listen to her talk.

Other members of staff were not as adept at hiding their surprise. Professor Sprout's eyebrows had disappeared into her flyaway hair and Professor McGonagall's mouth was as thin as Harry had ever seen it. Severus was leaning on his left hand that he'd propped up on the table, rolling his eyes once before massaging his temples, just as he always did when preparing to fill out the tons of paperwork the Ministry or Gringotts demanded for pretty much everything. Evy was looking at the pink clad woman with the same vaguely polite and completely devoid of feeling expression -that she had admitted to having perfected at an early age- that signified she was tuning out everything while appearing as politely interested as possible.

"Thank you, Headmaster," she simpered, in a high-pitched grating tone, "for those warm words of welcome!"

"Well, bugger everything." Neville muttered eloquently, one eyebrow cocked as he peered at Umbridge. "Just when I thought I couldn't dislike her more."

"Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say!" She smiled, revealing very pointed teeth. "And to see such happy little faces looking back at me!"

"You were saying?" Harry asked his brother, grimacing at being talked to as if he was a five year old. A quick glance around him was enough to tell he wasn't alone at his thoughts.

"I stand corrected." Neville acquiesced.

"I am very much looking forward to getting to know you all, and I'm sure we'll be very good friends!" Students exchanged looks at this; some of them were barely concealing grins.

"I may cry." Ginny quipped dryly while Umbridge carried on with her speech, resembling a toad all the more every time she cleared her throat.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the Wizarding community must be passed down through the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching." She added, her tone now much more business-like and to the point, her words sounding rehearsed, her voice losing some of that simpering quality.

"Oh, look." Harry stated unimpressed. "Thinly veiled racist speeches already and we've not even had a single class of Defense Against the Dark Arts yet."

"Is it some sort of record?" Ginny asked, turning her glare towards Umbridge. "Do we keep track? Arrange prizes?"

"We could. Only if pranks are admissible as prizes, however." Harry offered, cocking an eyebrow at his own trail of thought. He did have some good ideas from time to time if he said so himself, and, judging by the fact the only-slightly-disturbing glint in Neville's eyes that was mirrored into Ginny's, he wasn't the only one to think so.

"It is with such conviction that I and others like myself," she carried on, looking pointedly at Evy, "have chosen to join the teaching staff of this historical establishment." As it turned out, being compared to Umbridge -and found similar- was probably the only thing that could have snapped Evy out of her personal bubble of active disregard at what was being said. She frowned at the older witch and, assuming an expression of affronted disgust, turned her gaze towards Severus. The potions master shrugged, because, really, what could he do to stop Umbridge's delusions? Evy's expression shifted from affronted disgust to hurt betrayal, folding her arms over her chest, her stance promising retribution, causing Severus to move his hands in a placating motion, trying to convey that he absolutely neither believed nor indeed supported the notion of any similarities existing between the two women. Evy proceeded to nod swiftly and Harry didn't need Legillimency to read  _"and don't you forget it, mister!"_  between the lines.

Harry, somehow belatedly, realized that, since he was able to observe the silent conversation between Evy and his father, rationally so could the whole school. And, though neither the potions master nor the newly minted history professor seemed to care, most of the student body -and, in fact, even part of the staff, including the Headmaster himself- smiled and giggled at the display. Umbridge, who was perhaps the one person unable to see what exactly was going on behind her back, as she was addressing the student body, paused her speech confused, looking around her for the source of the spreading merriment. Her confusion only escalated when, upon finally turning her gaze towards Evy and Severus, she found both looking at her calmly, their expressions the picture of innocence, as if they had been riveted by her speech all along.

"Well," she muttered, before clearing her throat to carry on, " _hem-hem_ , as I was saying… Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress's sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation is required."

"The more she talks," Ginny said, "the less I like this educational reform and I didn't care for it to begin with." Harry nodded, his eyes narrowing. He had been present at enough talks with the goblins, he had been taught well over the years by his father too, and he could easily recognize the message Umbridge was trying to convey here. Behind all the flowery speeches and pretend cordiality was a warning -no, not a warning, a _statement_ \- of how things would be from that moment on in Hogwarts. The Ministry had given her the right to intervene to pretty much everything from the sound of it. And though most of the students around the Great Hall had stopped paying attention altogether, the complete silence that was only reserved for Dumbledore's speeches having dissolved into giggling and chattering, Umbridge plowed on, aware that the people whose attention she was trying to captivate were listening. Indeed, all the teaching staff was now paying her the utmost attention, all of them sporting various expressions varying from worry to fury and many combinations of the two.

"…because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgment. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited."

"So, basically," Harry concluded, applauding -albeit slowly- as Dumbledore had indicated they all should at Umbridge's speech ending, "what she said is that the Ministry intents to oust what disagrees with them and mold everything they can't be rid of as they see fit."

"He leaves nothing to chance this time around, does he?" Ginny asked, not bothering to specify who  _he_  was.

"I'd say." Neville agreed, frowning. "And if that whole speech -and the entire bloody educational reform- isn't an error of judgment that will be recognized as such in the fullness of time, I don't know what is." It took the sudden noise eruption around them to realize Dumbledore must have dismissed the school.

Harry said his goodbyes to Ginny and his brother and approached a surly looking Hermione so they could lead the first years to the Common Room, what most considered an additional chore that had fallen to them as the youngest Prefects of their House. Nodding at Draco, as he prepared to do the same, he made his way towards the seventh floor, smiling at the first years who managed to gather their courage and ask him, bright-eyed, about the Firebolt. He would talk to Draco later as their shifts somewhat coincided; Harry was to patrol the dungeons -he had conveniently volunteered for that as Prefects patrolled away from their Houses' common rooms to avoid favouritism and nobody wanted to patrol the dungeons as the hallways there got quite cold and dreary during the autumn and winter months- and Draco was to patrol the Great Hall and the first floor of the west wing.

Back to the present, however, remembering how lost some of his fellow students as first years who had never set foot at Hogwarts before that night had been after his own sorting -and since those specific first years had managed to take his mind off Umbridge and her speech even for a few moments- he decided to explain a bit about how the stairs worked and where their classes were located. The children -even the Muggleborn ones that had never heard of Quidditch and the Firebolt or the Triwizard tournament for that matter- seemed to be hanging from his words, Hermione sending an unsure smile his way -a vast improvement from the glares he'd been receiving from her for the past year or so- and, as they stepped foot on the seventh floor, he explained how the passwords system worked.

"The current password is  _Mimbulus mimbletonia_." Upon seeing their mostly confused expressions, he smiled kindly and added; "It's a magical plant. You'll learn all about it at your Herbology class, rest assured. Now this," he said as he smiled and bowed courteously at the painting hanging in front of them, "is the Fat Lady. She has graciously guarded our Common Room for centuries and has suffered the mischievous natures of generations of Gryffindors, including myself." And he winked at the first years who giggled at the display and then giggled even more as the Fat Lady exclaimed;

"Mr. Potter!" Her face reddening as she coquettishly batted her eyelids at him from behind her lace-and-feathers-adorned fan.

"My lady." Harry bowed at her once more before giving the password, leading the first years into the Common Room, letting them marvel at the sight for a few seconds before speaking once more. "Now, if you have any questions during the year you may address Hermione, myself, or any other Prefect. If you find yourself lost in the castle…" and at some panicked reactions he smiled softly and added, "as most of us do, at some point; why, I remember that one time I took a wrong turn and found myself-" he made a show of looking at Hermione and closing his mouth abruptly as if just remembering he was a Prefect and so was she, "you know I'd better not mention where I ended up. Just know I  _really_  wasn't supposed to be there." The first years, along with some of the older students that had been listening into the conversation, laughed, even as Hermione glared at him, probably for promoting mischief or something similar -it wasn't as if he was going to mention trying to walk off his annoyance and ending up in the Forbidden Forest a breath away from dragon cages to first year students!- so he carried on. "As I was saying, don't hesitate to ask older students, teachers or even the ghosts and paintings for help. That's all; you had better go to your dormitories to get situated and rest." He added, channeling his inner Minnie; he thought the house elf would have been proud could she see him right then. "Welcome to Hogwarts and welcome to Gryffindor."

The first years bid the two Prefects goodnight somewhat timidly but with much more ease than when they had greeted them at the Great Hall. Harry's good mood somehow dissipated as the younger students walked away from him and towards their dormitories as instructed. Those children would find themselves in the midst of war soon, he remembered, sullenly congratulating his mind for not allowing him even that small respite from reality. Not that it would do any good. Hermione looked at him strangely, opening her mouth but unable to ask what she had been meaning to as Ginny approached them, that glint in her eyes once more.

"You've just made Minnie very proud, Mr. Potter." That, at least, managed to elicit a smile from Harry.

"I do try, Miss Weasley." He responded, looking around for his brother. "Hasn't Neville returned yet?" He asked, wondering if he had, perhaps, taken the opportunity to spend some time with Luna.

"Seamus ran up to the dormitory in a fit and Adrian with Ron followed him not five minutes ago, your twin looking the part of an extremely angry raincloud." Ginny explained. "Neville followed after them just in case." As if by magic, the clattering and cursing that wafted from the fifth-years' dormitory proved the prudence of Neville's decision. Harry exchanged one disturbed glance with Ginny before hasting towards the ruckus. What he found once opening the door of the boys' dormitory had him staring. Dean was helping Ron stand up from where he lay sprawled on the floor, one hand pressing over his left eye that was already starting to bruise while, in the middle of the room, Neville was holding Adrian and Seamus -who were glaring at each other still- from their shirt collars, looking unimpressed. Adrian was missing a few buttons from his shirt while Seamus sported a split lip and Harry looked at Neville in utter befuddlement.

"What in bloody hell happened?" He asked, still unable to process the scene.

"Words were exchanged, insults were thrown around liberally and then this one," Neville said, shaking Adrian who glared at him poisonously, "lunged at this one." And he shook Seamus too for good measure. "Then Ron tried to stop them but someone," and here he looked at Seamus meaningfully, "socked him in the eye." The shorter boy glared at him too and looked away from both Neville and Adrian, trying to express his annoyance. It didn't come out half as dignified a move as he intended, considering he was still held by the scruff of his neck like an overgrown, misbehaving kitten. "Then I intervened before they could reach for their wands and then you walked in." Neville explained. Still not understanding the cause of the fight, Harry nonetheless appreciated magic's choice of dubbing his brother's animagus form a bear, seeing how he easily kept the two still somewhat struggling teens away from each other.

"But what caused it?"

"He's having a go at me Mam!" Seamus yelled.

"He was what?" Harry asked, looking at his twin in disbelief. "Why would you do that, Adrian?"

"It's not my fault she's stupid enough to believe every word the bloody Ministry says about me!" proclaimed Adrian at the top of his voice. Harry paled as Seamus tried -and failed- to attack his twin.

"Don't you have a go at my mother," snapped Seamus. "Let me at 'im, Neville!"

"No, I can't see me doing that." Neville stated, his muscles straining to keep the two boys from each other but not budging.

"Enough!" Harry exclaimed, pulling out his wand. Seamus ceased his assault attempts immediately and even Adrian paused to glare at his twin. "Adrian you were raised better." Harry stated, glaring back at his twin; insulting people's mothers would do nothing good for him.

"Of course, that's the issue here!" Adrian fumed. "Me being insulting! Not Voldemort returning and the Ministry trying to cover it up! But of course, you'd take  _their_  side, wouldn't you?" Adrian asked menacingly, his face getting redder. "You've been chummy with Fudge and Death Eaters lately, haven't you? You've made which side you'll be on the coming war quite clear!" The silence that followed was absolute, if one excepted Adrian's rugged breathing. Or the ringing in Harry's ears for that matter.

"You know, Adrian," Neville spoke, his tone so dark it almost took Harry's mind of his twin's accusations, "I'm of a mind to curse the living daylights out of you, just for what you said." And he pushed Adrian back, sending him tumbling on his bed in disgust. Even Adrian himself suddenly seemed taken aback; if it was because of Neville's actions or because he regretted his accusations, Harry couldn't tell. Neville let go of Seamus too -the teen scampering backwards in his haste to get away- before tidying his robes, probably to have something to do with his hands that didn't include punching Adrian or reaching for his wand. "But," Neville added, looking at the still frozen Adrian, "you're not even worth the trouble." Adrian sneered at that, his eyes squinting.

"You know, I have been expecting Harry's actions," he stated, his words obviously aiming to wound, "but not yours. You being your parents' son and all, I would have never thought you siding with-" He never managed to complete his sentence as the bed hangings from Seamus' bed, that had probably become dislodged during the scuffle and had fallen towards Neville's bed, suddenly burst into flames where they lay next to Harry's feet. Harry swiftly cast a fire extinguishing spell, closing his eyes shut and clenching his jaw as he tried taking deep breaths to calm himself. Of all the cheap shots, how did Adrian even  _dare_  to mention Neville's parents?

"What the-" Dean started to say only to be interrupted by an annoyed sounding Neville.

"Damn it, I  _need_  those fire seeds!" Harry opened his eyes to find his brother making a show of pushing back the scorched curtains for his open trunk -and he hoped he hadn't damaged any of Neville's belongings- and reaching in for the open fireproof pouch he used to keep fire seeds in. "Only four left." He muttered before turning to Adrian. "I do hope you're satisfied." He stated drily, retying the pouch -the very pouch he always double checked was well tied and secure and untying it so fast surely must have taken some serious slight-of-hand- and placing it back into his trunk.

"And I hope you like detention." Harry stated, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "This Friday at eight, after class, with Professor McGonagall; I'll make sure to explain to her  _exactly_  why you've been given it." He added as Adrian went paler than a ghost.

"You can't-" Adrian tried to utter.

"You'll find that I can." Harry interrupted him. "Prefect and all."

"Thanks for that, Harry." Seamus said, looking at Adrian smugly.

"Not exactly why I did it, though Adrian had no right speaking as he did about your mother." Harry said, looking at the blond Gryffindor. "Last term, after the Triwizard tournament, I asked you to listen to what the Headmaster had to say without prejudice." That obviously came as news to both Adrian, who hadn't been dismissed from the hospital wing at the time, and Ron, who had been at his friend's side. "I'm going to say that again and ask you to remember that, during the last war too, Voldemort had tried reaching into the Ministry."

"You're asking us to believe in what Dumbledore says?" Seamus asked, this time thoughtful if still hesitant.

"I wouldn't presume to tell you what to think." Harry answered diplomatically. "Just to examine all you hear, from  _every_  source, before making a decision." Seamus didn't answer verbally; he just shared a look with Dean and nodded once. Adrian, observing the exchange, huffed and scrambled on his bed, pulling the curtains shut around him. Harry sighed tiredly at his reaction and repaired Seamus' bed hangings silently before returning them in their proper place. Neville, looked at him concerned for a few moments before moving towards Ron, looking at his swiftly closing eye and casting a quick healing charm at it.

"That should do it." He muttered as Ron rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Listen, Neville, don't take what Adrian said to heart, alright?" The redhead said. "He's been under a lot of pressure lately and-"

"No amount of pressure justifies his actions." Harry spat coldly, almost daring Ron to keep up with his defense of Adrian.

"I… just…" Ron sighed and turned towards Neville. "Look, I'm sorry that-"

"It's not you that should be apologizing." Neville stated walking towards the door. "I'm heading to the Common Room for a while. Coming, Harry?"

"I have my rounds, still." Harry answered, gladly following his brother out the room. They walked silently, unable to discuss what had happened under the eyes of most of Gryffindor House, but Neville placed his hand on his brother's shoulder comfortingly. Harry, who thought he wasn't the one that should be comforted at that point, smiled tiredly at Neville.

"Quick thinking back there." He said.

"Meh, I'm awesome like that, what can you do?" Neville asked, his own answering smile much wider than his brother's.

"So full of it." Harry teased, his expression fond at Neville's obvious efforts at distracting him.

" _Adrian's_  full of it." Neville clarified. "Adrian's full of a lot of things actually, most of them unsavory. I'm just awesome, honestly."

"Quite right." Harry agreed. They reached the bottom of the stairs to find Hermione waiting for them.

"And I don't give a fig about what he says." Neville assured his brother, looking him in the eye until he was certain he had understood him. "I don't care enough for his opinion to have it affect me." Harry nodded once, using his brother's assurances as s shield to fight back his fury.

"Is everything alright?" She inquired. "We have to start our rounds."

"We'll live." Neville answered, nudging his brother slightly towards the Common Room's entrance.

"We will." Harry agreed, nodding at his brother before following Hermione out the Common Room, smiling sadly at Ginny as he walked by. Hermione seemed to want to ask him what had happened but Harry, not even wanting to think about it, declared he should be heading towards the dungeons and hightailed towards the Grand Staircase. He walked down the steps like an automaton, snapping out of his numbness only upon reaching the, now empty, Great Hall where Draco waited. It took the blond Slytherin a simple gaze to realize something had gone extremely wrong in the half hour since he had seen his brother.

"What happened?" He asked in concern.

"Would you mind skipping the beginning of your rounds and follow me to Sev's office? It's one of those things I'd rather only repeat once." Harry admitted.

"We still have ten minutes before we have to start our sounds anyway." Draco stated and followed Harry back into the dungeons. Since Harry was, in fact, the only patrolling prefect at these halls, they reached Severus' office without any difficulties. The potions master answered the door in a matter of seconds, having expected the visit after Umbridge's speech, his expression darkening as he laid eyes upon his son.

"This isn't about Umbridge." He stated as he stepped aside to let the teens enter his office. To Harry's mild surprise, Evy was already there, seated at the chair Severus usually kept by his desk, now pulled close to the fire, holding a mug of tea. Her wide smile faded the moment she noticed Harry's disposition and she hurried from her seat towards him, tea abandoned at the coffee table by the fire.

"Are you alright?" She asked softly, stopping a few feet from him, making an effort not to crowd him. Her obvious attempt not to fret lifted Harry's spirits enough to find the strength and walk towards his armchair by the fire and plop himself on it.

"I almost set the dormitory on fire." He stated and then proceeded to explain why and how as they gathered around him. "And then," he said finally, rubbing circles at his temples, "I gave him detention with McGonagall and warned him I'd explain just why I did so. Which I'm going to, trust me."

"Great Morgana." Evy whispered, seating back at the corner of Severus' desk. "I had gathered things weren't going well between the two of you but I'd never…" and as words failed her, she turned towards Severus who was seething at the corner, next to a dumbstruck Draco.

"Adrian's taken it too far." The potions master agreed, his voice colder than ice. "Giving him detention was the right thing to do. I just wish I had a more permanent solution for his pettiness."

"If he doesn't stop any time soon," Harry said grimacing, his anger still simmering just beneath his skin, "the solution will include burn treatments." He breathed in deeply. "He just makes me  _angry_. So angry, almost every time he opens his mouth and… it didn't use to be like this." He admitted, sagging back into his chair helplessly. He had no idea how to salvage his relationship with Adrian; he didn't even know if, even after the war -should they both make it- he would be willing to try.

"He's a moron." Draco stated. "A complete and utter imbecile and if he thinks what he's been through justifies treating people like dirt maybe I ought to curse him more often."

"You don't need to get in trouble because of him." Harry stated.

"No, listen. I've been there; I've been under pressure and I've lashed out." The blond Slytherin explained. "But I didn't  _want_  to be like that, I could tell it wasn't a good place to be and the moment somebody took the time to show me there was another way to go about it, I took the chance. And I'm not even saying I'm good at it and I'm still adjusting, but Harry; you've been giving Adrian a way out for years now. If he wants to still go around being a prick, it's his choice and you're going to have to deal with him accordingly." Three pairs of eyes bore into the young Slytherin, his face blushing faint pink under their scrutiny but he didn't back down.

"You're right." Harry agreed, feeling some of his tension ebbing away. "And you're great at well, not being a prick and all." He added, a little bit awkwardly.

"Thanks." Draco responded, just as awkward.

"Yes, well," Severus said, smiling at the two boys, Draco is right. "If Adrian doesn't understand he has to change his attitude, ignore him. And if you think I'd be better to avoid him altogether, then do that."

"It might come to it." Harry conceded with a frown. "Though it does feel a little like running away."

"Don't think of it as running away." Evy proposed, having stayed silent so far, allowing Harry a few moments to breathe. "Think of it as taking practical measures to avoid setting his robes on fire." That managed to elicit a soft chuckle from the teen in question.

"Thank you, Evy." Harry said before looking at the blonde witch questioningly, a glint returning to his eyes. "And I hope my sudden brooding session didn't interrupt anything?" He asked, smirking at his father who promptly rolled his eyes.

"Oh, yes." Evy answered, causing both Draco and Harry to exchange a startled look, having been given the only answer they weren't expecting. "An escape plan." Neither did they expect that to be the explanation.

"From what?" Draco asked tentatively as Severus chuckled.

"My first lesson tomorrow." She explained, causing both Harry and Draco to join Severus in his chuckling. "It's no laughing matter!" Evy protested, folding her arms over her chest even as she too smiled. "I'm terrified! The only reason I haven't made my escape yet is because my first class is with the fifth year Gryffindors and, I figured, I already know two of my students in that class and Neville and you have already been subjected to my half-crazed history related monologues and don't hate me yet, right?" She asked looking at Harry, her eyes so wide and pleading, he found himself folded in two from laughter, clutching his sides as he tried to breathe.

"You'll be great." Draco assured her, wiping a few tears from his face. "We love your half-crazed history related monologues."

"We really do." Harry offered.

"And I have the joy of saying  _I told you so_ , sooner than I thought I would." The potions master interjected, looking very pleased with himself.

"Oh hush, you." Evy deadpanned, now smiling widely.

"And let it be said that I just knew this was going to be the term from hell." Harry added. "Even if I hadn't calculated Umbridge's input at the whole mess."

"You understood what she meant with that speech, I presume." The potions master spoke, not even bothering with forming his thoughts into a question.

"With the summer we've had?" Draco asked rhetorically.

"I had expected Fudge would put her here to monitor things for the Ministry," Harry admitted, "but having her downright declare her intentions of changing what she deems needs change? I did not predict that."

"If it makes you feel any better," Evy said, smiling ruefully, "neither did I."

"Fudge has reached such a level of idiocy," Severus said, "he's started confounding Seers. Brilliant."

" _This_  Seer," Evy pointed at herself, "is going to have to visit Umbridge's office soon."

"You want to see the room so you can skry it later on?" Harry asked, intrigued.

"Not much of a use watching Umbridge move in a white background." Evy explained. "Which is why I will need to take an extensive tour of the castle too."

"I could show you around." The potions master suggested, making Evy smile at him and Harry exchange a grin with Draco. "You think if you see enough of the castle you could start skrying for the horcruxes?" Severus asked thoughtfully.

"Would if I could. I have been trying to do so after looking at those pictures at the book back at Silbreith." Evy admitted. "But the drawings aren't good enough. Perhaps if I had a memory of the object I could skry for it. But I can't do much with only a location."

"I don't think anybody has seen the Cup since it was stolen half a century ago and the Diadem since the Founders' era." The potions master said.

"Speaking of Ravenclaw's Diadem," Harry spoke, thinking of a certain Ravenclaw, "I've been meaning to talk to you about Luna."

"Luna Lovegood?" Severus asked, recalling the reserved fourth year Ravenclaw. The girl was brilliant and Neville was besotted with her, if memory served him well.

"Ginny's best friend, that Luna Lovegood?" Evy asked, earning Severus' attention; he hadn't been aware of that tidbit of information.

"And Nevile's girlfriend, yes." Harry confirmed.

"She's also crazy smart." Draco interjected, having an inkling on where Harry was heading, remembering their conversation earlier that day on Hogwarts Express.

"And an unregistered animagus to boot." Harry concluded, watching Evy and his father share a startled look.

"An animagus, you said?" Severus asked.

"A bluebird, from what I gathered." Harry confirmed. "And a person we can trust with access to the Ravenclaw Common Room."

"You're thinking of telling her." The potions master guessed, nodding thoughtfully.

"Well, Voldemort knows already. It's not as if he'll be hunting down any of us for that secret." The green eyed wizard argued. "And if he starts attacking openly, Luna would have been one of the first I'd have taken to Orbein. But therein lies the crux of the matter; she's smart and a powerful witch."

"I'm aware." Severus stated, nodding in agreement, having observed the girl flying by his lessons with ease, undeterred even when he was still assuming his big bad bat from the dungeons persona.

"She could be invaluable with some training, especially should something happen to the school." Harry explained. "Most students seem to be content to listen to their parents and steer clear of any war related nonsense." He carried on, rolling his eyes in exasperation at his wording, even if it had been an actual quote from what he had overheard from Lavender talking to Parvati. "Should we need to, one more student prepared to act could make the difference between evacuating the school and suffering needless casualties. As far as the Horcruxes are concerned, I still maintain that on Voldemort's first move in the open she can hide at Orbein. As we are now, we could use her while searching the school; she's bound to be less noticed by Dumbledore, at least, or by Umbridge. Luna's very good with flying under the radar like that."

"You've thought this through." Severus pointed out, looking at his son carefully. "And truly, at this point, I don't believe it could do any damage. _But_ ," Severus cautioned, "you have to explain to her, before you reveal anything major, that she'll be risking her life. If she'd rather not do it, you'll not pressure her. I know you wouldn't," Severus stated, interrupting his son before he managed to do more than open his mouth to protest, "but I needed to say it."

"And we need to warn Neville and Ginny first." Draco suggested with a smirk. "Let's shock as few people as possible." A few more details on when and where they would tell Luna -Sunday at seven, after Harry had sneaked back in from Orbein at Severus' office- and Draco and Harry had to be off, already half an hour late for their rounds. Harry spent the remaining one hour and a half of his patrol trying to get his still occasionally flaring temper under wraps. Still, he found himself wishing for his sword or his hammers and anvil back home as he climbed the stairs to the seventh floor. Anything to blow up steam. He smiled instinctively to the Fat Lady and walked through the passage and into the common room to find Neville and Ginny still waiting for him.

"It's not that we were worried." Neville offered by the way of a greeting.

"He was worried." Ginny stated, nodding in confirmation.

"'Cause you weren't." Neville countered, cocking an eyebrow at her.

"I was slightly concerned." Ginny admitted, Harry chuckling at their interaction.

"I'm hanging there." He reassured them. "Do you care to hear what you missed?" And he led them towards the still lit fireplace, casting a few strong silencing and protective spells around them for good measure, as he set to explain what he had proposed about Luna. Their reactions were more than favorable if he was to judge by Neville's brighter-than-the-sun smile and the impromptu hug from Ginny. They left the common room together, Ginny saying her goodnights as they reached the staircases for the dormitories.

"Harry," Neville said, just before they entered the room, "just, thanks."

"Don't mention it, Nev." Harry said, smiling at him even wider despite the punch on the shoulder. They fell to their beds soon thereafter, the wear and tear of the day finally kicking in. Harry was blatantly ignoring his twin's bed where light was still coming from behind the curtains as he tried to settle on his mattress. "Two points to Hufflepuff," he muttered as his eyes drooped close, hoping the next day would dawn better than the last.

To the next day's defense, it did start better than the last one. That, of course, didn't mean it carried on like so.

For one thing, Adrian was still asleep when Harry rose from bed, so any awkwardness that might have been had there was prevented. And he found himself heading towards the Great Hall smiling widely, alongside Neville, mostly due to Fred and George's notification on the Common Room's notice board;

_**GALLONS OF GALLEONS!** _

_Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings?_

_Like to earn a little extra gold?_

~%~

_Contact_ **Fred and George Weasley** _,_

_Gryffindor common room,_

_for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs_

_(WE REGRET THAT ALL WORK IS UNDERTAKEN AT APPLICANT'S OWN RISK)_

Then, when they received their timetables, Harry couldn't help but smile. Even if the fifth year was OWL year and everybody knew that only meant studying until you dropped, he could never recall a more pleasant Monday. They started with History of Magic and then double Potions with Slytherin, followed by Ancient Runes and double DADA with Hufflepuff. Well, Harry thought, as he filled his plate with pancakes, Defense Against the Dark Arts did mean Umbridge, but it was still the same class. How bad could she make it be?

"Great Monday this year." Neville said from his right, smiling down at his program. "And look, Herbology tomorrow!"

"Hey Harry!" Fred and George echoed, plopping on Harry's left.

"Fred, George." Harry greeted them, smiling as he recalled their notification. "So, are you on the market for lab rats?"

"Do mine ears deceive me?" Fred wandered, looking at Harry in mock confusion. "A prefect that does not deem it necessary to reprimand us for offering mildly hazardous jobs to minors?"

"Just do try not to cause any irreparable damage." Harry cautioned, knowing fully well the twins tested their more dangerous contraptions on themselves and that they routinely asked for his father's advice with the more complicated of their products.

"Yes, sir!" They chorused, saluting Harry in every seriousness. And that was when they caught sight of their timetables.

"Ooh, OWL year." George crooned.

"That's gonna hurt." Fred added wisely.

"We'll soldier on." Neville replied, chortling still. "Besides, our program seems nice so far." He added and passed his timetable to Fred's expecting hands.

"What are you talking about, mate?" He exclaimed. "You're starting with History of Magic."

"With Professor…" Harry paused and considered what Evy's title would be now, on account of her not truly having a last name. "Well, with princess Evelyn. Much different than Binns, I'm sure."

"I'd say!" George agreed, sneaking a look at Evy who had just arrived at the staff's table, receiving a generous cuff around the neck for his efforts, courtesy of one Neville Longbottom.

"Watch it, Weasley!" The younger Gryffindor cautioned.

"Anyway, we've got Potions next and then Ancient Runes." Harry pointed out. "Then, of course, we have Umbridge, but how much can she really mess up Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"Good point there." Fred admitted. "You know," he added, looking at his twin for a few seconds before carrying on, "we were seriously considering not returning for our NEWTs. We're goin' freelance either way, so it seemed a tad redundant."

"Mum had been pressuring us though." George explained. "So, we sent a letter to professor Snape." Harry, who had heard about a letter being sent but not of its contents, as it was Fred and George's personal lives it concerned, nodded, urging them on. "He said that we were quite capable already to follow the line of work we'd chosen and he was certain we'd be great at it. He also said that, should we decide not to return for out seventh year, he would support our decision and help should we need it. He did however advise that a NEWT in Potions would make it easier to gain Ministry approval for testing our products and establishing patents. He was right ya know; we looked into it."

"'Course he was." Fred added. "D'you know professor Snape is the only adult that didn't look at us weird or told us to try a different carrier path? He's also the only adult that ever offered to provide help. Well, I say the  _only_  adult," Fred smirked, "but you're emancipated so you kind of count."

"Kind of thank you." Harry deadpanned, smiling at the twins.

"Yeah, well," George said, smiling widely himself, "things have been looking up lately! We may prove his faith in us right after all."

"I have no doubt you will." Neville stated. "You guys are geniuses when it comes to pranks."

"Nev's got the right of it." Harry agreed.

"Man, I wish our parents had half the faith you have in us." Fred said, picking at his eggs.

"Just go out there and do what you want to do." Harry passed on his father's advice. "The rest will follow."

"Anyway, enough about us!" Fred exclaimed. "Any idea what you two esteemed gentlemen would like to be after you graduate? You have career advice this year after all!"

"I would like to -act surprised, please- do something related to Herbology." Neville stated without pausing to think. "Maybe in correlation with applications to potions?"

"I do have a thought or two. I already do have a very lucrative occupation, you know." Harry admitted, smiling mischievously. "You'll just have to wait and see."

"Of course." George said, nodding his head grimly. "What'll you be then alongside a broomstick designer? Novelty dragon sculptures' maker? So life-like your robes are on fire?" Harry chocked on his pumpkin juice, clutching his sides as he coughed and laughed, Neville trying his best to hit his back amidst his own peals of laughter.

"Goblins' gold, George!" Harry exclaimed when he managed to catch his breath, looking at the unrepentantly laughing redhead. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"Wouldn't put it past him." Ginny commented, seating herself next to Neville. "Good morning."

"And how is our baby sister this delightful morning?" Fred asked, pointing at the dim, grey skies depicted on the magical ceiling.

"Not chocking on my breakfast yet." Ginny retorted, Harry chuckling at her quip.

"Heartless." He stated, pointing at her accusingly. "Heartless on top of evil, Miss Weasley."

"My virtues are piling up." Ginny agreed. The breakfast continued jovially, a quick talk with Angelica -the new Gryffindor quidditch captain- concerning the coming tryouts on Friday afternoon concluding it, Harry and Neville walking towards the Slytherin table where Draco was just finishing up with his breakfast just as Adrian, Hermione and Ron entered the Great Hall. Seeing his twin only reminded him of having to talk to professor McGonagall about his detention, but Harry refused to let that thought mar his otherwise perfect morning thus far.

"Good morning, guys." Draco greeted them, waving goodbye to the older prefects he had been talking to as he followed his brothers out of the Great Hall. His first class was Charms, meaning he could walk with them all the way to third floor before continuing towards Flitwick's classroom. "So, anything new?"

"Other than Neville being ecstatic about us telling Luna?" Harry asked. "No, not really. Well," he amended, "the Weasley twins are running slightly dangerous product trials on students, but that's about it."

"That and Harry apparently having an  _idea_  about what he wants to do after school's over." The way Neville had said the word  _idea_  made it sound like something potentially dangerous albeit exciting and Harry couldn't help but smirk; his brother was completely right.

"He's smirking." Draco noticed, pointing Harry. "Why is he smirking, Nev?"

"I don't know!" Neville exclaimed, just as eager to listen to what Harry had to say.

"Well, I've been thinking," Harry explained, "that I wouldn't want to have all that magic I've been learning simply sitting around useless. I know I will carry on with my broomsmithing. I'm really looking forward to that actually. And there's something else I've been considering; I'll just have to run it by Dad first, clear up a few things."

"I was thinking-" Draco started, only to blush pink and cut himself short. "Never mind, it's stupid."

"I couldn't say, haven't heard it yet." Neville pointed out. Draco breathed in and started speaking again.

"Malfoys haven't actually  _worked_  for some generations now, you know." He explained. "We meddle a bit with politics, sure, but the family money comes mostly from investments and leasing the family properties. It's been going quite well for us; lots of properties. Real estate for the wealthy, my father calls it." Draco said, grimacing distastefully. "I hate it. I mean, I could easily hire a goblin for that and I'd probably make more profit than before. So I've been thinking; I'd like to become a Healer."

"I don't think that's stupid at all." Harry proclaimed with utter certainty. "I think it would suit you perfectly."

"And you're very good at Potions and Herbology. And Charms, come to think of it, and those are the main prerequisites for becoming a Healer." Neville added.

"I, well, you think I could do it?" Draco asked, hopefully.

"Of course we think you can do it, Draco!" Neville exclaimed, Harry nodding in absolute agreement. "Don't be daft!"

Having reached the third floor, they bid Draco goodbye till Potions, the Slytherin smiling at them widely and demanding a detailed narration of how their first lesson with Evy would go, walking to Charms with a spring in his step.

They entered the History of Magic classroom first, looking around them in wonder. Evy had redecorated; gone were the dreary, dusty furniture, laden with yellowed doilies. Now the walls were lined with bookcases filled not only with books but with various artifacts. On the left side of the classroom where an assorted clutter of pieces of armour used to be, now stood a case filled with selves where rolled up maps lay, labeled and ready to be used. And on the far right corner of the room, where once only an oversized fern stood, the bare space was now dominated by a full armor made of metal and what Harry recognized as dragon scales, built for someone at least three times as tall and wide as Hagrid, the horns of the helmet almost touching the tall, arched ceiling. The curtains had been pulled open -they had been replaced too, Harry noted, the tattered blue velvet swapped for golden-cream raw silk- and the morning light, dim as it was that day, gave the room a cheery glow.

"Good morning!" Evy exclaimed. "How do you like the room?" She asked, arms wide as she motioned at the changes.

"It's amazing!" Harry offered, making sure to claim the desk closest to Evy's for himself and Neville.

"You can't even tell it's the same classroom!" Neville agreed, nodding lively.

"Oh, good, 'cause it was a bit…"

"Horrible?" Harry asked, making Evy smile and nod.

"Blimey!" Sounded from the classroom's entrance, Ron having just stepped in and caught sight of the armour. The general reactions were quite similar as the fifth year Gryffindors filled the room, their attention divided between their new professor and the classroom.

"Good morning, class!" Evy greeted them once they were all seated. "My name is Evelyn, and I'll be taking over the History of Magic lessons from now on, in the place of Professor Binns. I'd like to start with a roll call, if you wouldn't mind." She said, smiling widely, pulling out the parchment with their names, memorizing faces to go along with them. "Good, now, before we begin, I see you've been looking around the classroom; if there's anything you'd like to ask, don't hesitate." And Hermione's hand rose.

"Ehm, Professor…" and she froze, blushing, stumbling upon the same problem that Harry had at the Great Hall. Thankfully Evy, who had dealt with that issue in the past, smiled reassuringly.

"Professor Evelyn or just Professor will do just fine, Miss Granger." She assured her.

"Professor, what is that armour?" She voiced the question of the entire class who was now hanging from Evy's lips.

"A giant's armour, worn by Gautung the Ruinner during the third giant wars." Evy explained. Ron's hand flew in the air faster than Harry could blink. "Yes, Mr. Weasley?"

"Is it real, then?"

"Very real." Evy answered, watching her students exchange stunned looks between them. "As a matter of fact, with the exception of a few replicas," and she pointed at two porcelain urns near the entrance of the room, "most of the artifacts in the room are authentic." Parvati was the one who raised her hand this time. "Miss Patil."

"Did you find all of them?" The girl asked, eyes wide as saucers.

"I was a member in some of the expeditions where many of them were discovered, yes." Evy stated. "Some I salvaged from various corners of the world and  _this_  one," she pointed with her thumb over her shoulder at the huge armour in the corner, "I  _may_  have won at a mahjong game against a smuggler."

"Wicked!" Ron exclaimed, the excited whispering that followed her proclamation and the wide eyed astonishment in which the whole class regarded Evy only cementing his proclamation. Harry and Neville bumped fists in victory as Evy smiled fondly at them.

"Now, to start the actual lesson," Evy spoke, complete silence falling in the classroom, "I would like to ask you a question; why do you think it's important to study History of Magic?" Her students looked at each other worriedly and Evy chuckled. "Don't worry, there are no wrong or right answers to this question. Also do forgive me for laughing but I imagine this," she said pointing at the faces of her students, "is the exact panicked look I gave my own professor when he asked that very same question on my first Archeology lesson." A few relieved smiles later, Seamus raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Finnigan."

"Because learning of the past prevents us from repeating the same mistakes?" Seamus asked, blushing a deep red at Evy's answering smile.

"A great question, there!" More hands were raised after that, Evy pointing at each student to hear their answer; soon, the whole class was getting involved in the conversation.

"Because we can see how the magical communities were formed?" Neville asked.

"Because the cultural evolution of each magical community can be seen even today?" Lavender suggested.

"Because History of Magic," Harry said, "is more than buildings and battles or even witches and wizards, isn't it?"

"Correct, Mr. Potter." Evy affirmed in the silence Harry's question had left in its wake. "History of Magic  _does_  teach us how the magical communities came to be, how they fought and how they interacted amongst them and with the other magical races. But it also teaches us how Magic itself came to be, how  _we_ , the witches and wizards of today, came to wield it." The astonished silence continued and so did Evy. "Now, I've heard from various sources that your experience with history lessons had been a bit, shall we say lacking. So, in a bound of optimism and against advices I've been given, I believed it couldn't possibly have been  _that_  bad." She said. "So, yesterday, I asked Professor Binns to give me the same lecture he was preparing for you today."

"Why?" Asked Seamus automatically.

"Another great question, Mr. Finnigan." Evy answered, assuming a lost, terrified look that had even Hermione giggling. "I sat through the whole lecture, I think. At least, that's what professor Snape said when he came by to collect me; apparently, I was staring at the wall, practically unresponsive. I understand that was the common reaction to history classes at Hogwarts?" She asked, getting some very fervent nods and even more laughter. "And that was how I came to realize, you weren't joking; does any one of you recall ever being taught anything but goblin revolts?"

"There was a bit about giant wars in our second year, I think." Hermione offered.

"About the first giant wars and their implication to the second goblin rebellion, to be exact." Harry stated, nodding at Hermione in agreement.

"Great Morgana!" Evy exclaimed. "Nothing else?" The class collectively shook their heads. "I know this is your OWL year," she begun after some deliberation, "so I can't take the time I would like to and cover all lost ground but we're going to start from the very basics, at least the part of what you'll need for your exams, and move from there. And I promise you I'll do my best to help you along the way because I know this is a difficult year for you. Ideally, I would have you love History just as much as I do. Since I know that's most probably impossible -considering my interest for history has been described as ranging from passionate to manic- I will, at least, do my best so that you can kick some serious butt at your OWLs." The smiles that spread around the classroom were blinding, Hermione practically vibrating at her seat. "Now," Evy said, "let's talk about the many myths surrounding the birth of magic…"

And so started the most interesting lesson of History of Magic at Hogwarts in living memory. Evy moved through the material swiftly, making sure she was understood before moving on, adding a few funny myths here and there to make the theoretical parts flow easier. When the bell rang, the whole class was buzzing with excitement, saying their goodbyes to Evy with wide smiles disregarding the rather large homework that came hand in hand with OWL year, Neville and Harry giving her thumbs up and winking as they vacated the room for the third year Ravenclaws. Evy smiled brightly back at them as they joined their classmates in the hallway.

"Unbelievable." Ron was muttering. "I remember history. I  _enjoyed_  history!" He sounded quite scandalized at that realization. "It's like Potions from last year all over again."

"Professor Evelyn is  _wicked_!" Dean exclaimed, Lavender nodding in agreement next to him. "And now we got Potions?" He assumed a look of complete befuddlement. "Are Mondays going to be  _enjoyable_  this year?" He asked, exchanging borderline terrified glances with Seamus.

"It's very satisfying to see she's dedicated to helping us with our OWLs!" Hermione exclaimed. "Professor Binns didn't even seem to understand what I was saying when I asked him about the exams last term! And she makes the subject sound so interesting! Not that it isn't interesting, of course…" Harry and Neville smiled at each other and hurried towards the dungeons, eager to share their news with Draco and Severus before the class started.

"That went extremely well." Neville commented.

"I'd venture! No more pinching myself to stay awake throughout history lessons!" The raven haired wizard exclaimed, startling a group of third year Ravenclaws that were heading towards the History of Magic classroom themselves.

"You'll love the new professor!" Neville informed them, making them smile tentatively as he followed Harry to the Great Staircase. Ten minutes later they found themselves at the potions lab, a slightly out of breath Draco waiting for them by the door.

"From your smiles I gather it went well?" He asked.

"It was amazing!" Neville exclaimed, not for the first time that day.

"Wait until you see the giant armour." Harry informed him, grey eyes widening.

"The what?" He asked as they entered the lab.

"The giant armour." Harry repeated.

"Startling, isn't it?" Severus asked, smiling at his son as he went to greet him. "Worn by Gautung the Ruinner, I believe?"

"Yes!" Neville exclaimed.

"Wait, an authentic giant's armour?" Draco asked, his eyes widening even more when his brothers nodded in the affirmative.

"I believe she has you started on some basic theory?" The potions master asked. "Good," he carried on at their positive nodding. "It was about time history was taught properly at Hogwarts." The classroom slowly filled, the Gryffindors still buzzing with excitement from their history class.

"Thank, Merlin." Severus stated, looking at them. "Usually, when I have a class with students that have just come from History of Magic the first fifteen minutes are spent in shaking the poor souls from their stupor." The Gryffindors laughed in agreement with the Slytherins smiling in hope.

"I don't think you'll be having that problem anymore, Professor." Lavender volunteered, blushing as she addressed the potions master.

"Now, why couldn't they replace Binns when  _I_  was still a student?" Severus asked, folding his hands over his chest and frowning at the unfairness of it all. "Half of my classes with professor Binns, well, half of the classes with professor Binns I can  _remember_ , can only be classified as an out-of-body experience." This class didn't appear as it would be short on laughter either, Harry noted.

"Only half of them, professor?" Neville asked, looking honestly surprised.

"Well, during the other half I was either asleep or actively doodling on the blank margins of my history book." Severus admitted, amidst more laughter. "I've kept that history book." He informed them, Harry laughing freer that all of them since he had actually seen the book in question. "I'll have you know, that book is a masterpiece. Now, before we start today's lesson, I would like to address the dreaded subject of your OWL exams. You're going to hear it from every professor of every subject you're studying and now it's my turn. Let me explain how the OWLs in Potions work; you have the theoretical part and the practical part. The practical part is going to be brewing a potion you'll be taught this year. The theoretical part, however, will include questions encompassing the entire body of potion theory we've covered since the first year."

"Oh." Blaise Zabini sounded from the second row of benches.

"Yes,  _oh_." Severus agreed. "Now, I know that it's a lot of theory. And, even if I have no doubt that, with proper revision, you could ace those exams as you stand, I can also vividly recall just how ready I was to transform the entirety of my potions books into smoked ham and fling them into the Black Lake in hope the Giant Squid would eat them during my fifth year." The laughter that followed was only met with an unrepentant shrug of Severus' shoulders. "Fifth year is tough, don't judge. So, to prevent such plots from cropping up," he said and waved his wand, one of the cupboards at the far back of the lab opening and what appeared to be leather bound notebooks flying from inside, landing in front of the bewildered students, "I'm giving you these." Harry, who had seen the same notes collected for distribution last year, smiled widely as his classmates opened their notebooks.

"Are those notes on-"

"The basic theories and ingredients we've worked on since your first year, yes." Severus carried on from where Hermione had trailed off. "Now, these notes will not cover what you have to study for the practical part of the exam, for which you'll have to read from your current book, just to be clear. What they will do, is help you organize your revision and make it easier for you to locate and reread past years' material without panicking over your old books and notes." Hermione clutched the notebook to her chest, a look of pure worship on her face that was mirrored on more normal levels on the rest of the class.

"Thank you, professor." Dean offered for the entirety of the class.

"You shouldn't have to thank me for doing my job, but I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless. Besides, sane students mean fewer exploding cauldrons, so it's a win-win situation." Severus responded, smiling lopsidedly. "Now, onto today's lesson; before we start, a few words on a couple of ingredients you haven't worked with before…"

"I love Mondays." Seamus exclaimed as the class walked out of the potions lab and towards the Great Hall, Harry staying behind with Neville and Draco to talk a bit with his father, going over the details for how he'd leave for Orbein on Saturday. Lunch break, unfortunately, brought about the talk with McGonagall regarding Adrian's detention. The Transfiguration professor, who looked indignant at Harry proclaiming he had given a detention already and to his twin of all people, quickly grew somber as he explained the situation to her.

"I see." She said, her lips forming that thin line. "You did well, Mr. Potter." And, having nothing else to say on the subject, Harry bid her good bye and left for his Ancient Runes class. After a rather pleasant lesson -and yet another ominous talk of OWLs- time had finally come for defense Against the Dark Arts. Harry would lie if he said he wasn't dreading the class. As it turned out, he had every reason to.

Umbridge had made absolutely clear, just how she was planning to teach during the coming year. There would be no practical spellwork. There would be no deviating from the program she had set. If that meant they would be casting the needed curses for the very first time during their exams, then so be it, she had decreed. And then Adrian had made the mistake to stand up and yell Voldemort's return at her. Something which, on the one hand, was quite admirable, Harry admitted. On the other hand, extremely counterproductive; Adrian openly supporting Dumbledore and screaming Voldemort's return from the rooftops would only undo the Headmaster's efforts to shield him as much from the Ministry's witch hunt as possible. And Umbridge, who knew that as well, only delighted in handing him his very own punishment to carry to professor McGonagall himself. She let them off the moment the bell rang, at least, but not before asking, kindly as you please, to keep her informed should someone else started speaking nonsense of Voldemort's return.

"And the worst thing is," Harry spat later that night, seating in front of the fire at the Gryffindor common room, "she has every right to forbid us from casting spells during her lessons. As long as the Ministry supports her, she's free to teach according to her own preferences and the law will support her decisions."

"Then there's something wrong with the law." Ginny said, rubbing her eyes tiredly.

"Unfortunately, there's nothing we can do to fix it." Neville stated, reaching the same conclusion Draco and Harry had during their rounds later that night. Harry nodded, writing down the final lines to the conclusion of the uses of moonstone for his potions homework. "And it was such a great Monday too." He added mournfully.

The next day dawned even rainier but, thankfully, Umbridge-free. Breakfast was a quick affair, the students that had had a class with Umbridge last day glaring at her from a distance. The woman in question, wearing that ridiculous fly-looking velvet bow on her head again, was talking to an unimpressed Evy until Severus, who could probably feel the history professor dying a little on the inside, walked towards them and excused her from that monologue, claiming she had promised to help with a manuscript he had stumbled upon for a potion he was working on. Evy was more than willing to scamper off the Great Hall, gulping down her coffee and apologizing profusely and quite untruthfully to the pink clad witch while she and Severus made a run for it.

Harry was shaking his head fondly at them even as he headed towards Transfiguration with Neville. Professor McGonagall greeted them with talks of OWLs and Vanishing spells, stating their paramount importance for the exams. Harry and Neville smirked at each other; they had had a good deal of practice with vanishing spells, mostly due to dealing with the remains of the huge cockatrice nest they had discovered in Orbein. And, even if they hadn't used that specific incantation before, Harry managed it with his first try, earning Gryffindor ten points and Neville with his second, earning a wide smile from the Transfiguration professor. Hermione, slightly miffed at being outdone and Adrian, were the only other two students that had managed to successfully cast the spell and, as a result, the four of them where the only ones excused from homework that day.

Next on their schedule were Charms and summoning spells -with  _more_  talk of OWLs- and afterwards double Care of Magical Creatures with Slytherin. Professor Grubbly-Plank had brought Bowtruckles to class, the wand-tree guardians seeming unimpressed by the gathered crowd, interested only to the wood lice they were being fed. Their homework for the day was a detailed sketch of the creatures, with all their body parts catalogued, something Harry, Neville and Draco had started working on before the lesson was through, taking advantage of actually having the creatures in front of them instead of hoping to get everything right from memory and the rudimentary drawing on their books later on. Harry had been used to quick and accurate sketches due to his broomstick designing and Neville due to his Herbology studies even outside Hogwarts. Draco, on the other hand, flew seamlessly through his very detailed drawing because;

"Some of us are simply talented, Longbottom."

It was only after the class was through and Draco was accompanying Harry and Neville to the Greenhouses on his way back to the castle when they heard the crying. Sharing a confused look, the three boys walked towards the source of the sound, wands drawn, only to stumble upon a very unexpected scene. The one crying was a little girl, a Slytherin student, probably a first year, if Harry could hazard a guess. The girl was crying into her hands, sitting under a large willow tree and, with her hands wrapped around her, was a Gryffindor girl Harry recalled from the first year group he had led to the Common Room. The Gryffindor girl's name was Martha Eaton, if memory served him well.

"Is everything alright?" Neville asked, snapping the attention of the two girls towards them. They both looked startled and ready to bolt, even if Harry could bet the Slytherin girl would be barely able to see where she was going, tears still streaming down her eyes.

"We're… we're fine." Martha stuttered, pressing even closer to the other girl.

"I find I don't believe that." Draco said, his voice soft. "Annie, would you like to tell me what's wrong?" The Slytherin girl, now identified as Annie, looked at Draco speculatively and then at Harry and Neville with something akin to shock in her eyes.

"Martha, look at me." Harry intervened, seeing Annie wasn't inclined to speak. "I did tell you you could ask for help, should you need it and you seem to need to. Would you mind telling me what is wrong?"

"'s just…" Martha muttered, looking back at the greenhouses. "Annie and I are from the same village, y'know, and we've been best friends since _ever_. And we got into different Houses and we didn't mind but…"

"Some older girls told me that I can't be friends with a Gryffindor." Annie explained. "And I paid them no mind but today we had double Herbology so I went to work with Martha and this boy from my year said I'm a blood traitor and that Martha's a-" she paused, looking at the girl next to her apologetically.

"He called me a Mudblood." Martha mumbled, looking at her feet, tears gathering in her eyes.

"And he said," Annie continued, "that I'd better watch my back if I kept going like this and so should Martha and it's so  _unfair_!" The girl exclaimed, tears running down her cheeks again as she stomped a foot on the ground, stunning the three wizards. "Martha and I are friends, why can't we be friends?"

"Hey, now," Neville said, walking towards the girls and kneeling carefully in front of them, Harry and Draco following his example, "whoever said you two can't be friends, is a moron." He stated, startling the two first years enough to stop crying and look at him.

"And I would like their names, actually." Draco said, eyes narrowing. "Being in different Houses means you have different personalities, but you already knew that." Draco explained. "That doesn't mean you can't be friends though." The two girls looked at him confused and the blond Slytherin turned a desperate gaze towards his brothers; how was he supposed to deal with two crying, prepubescent girls?

"Exactly." Harry decided to intervene. "Take the three of us, for example; Nev and myself," he said, pointing at Neville, "are Gryffindors while Draco over here," and he nudged his blond brother with his elbow, "is Slytherin. But we're still best friends."

"You are?" Annie asked, looking at them in wonder.

"You bet!" Neville exclaimed. "Even if we're in different Houses and have different characters. Draco, for example, is fussy."

"Yes." Draco agreed. "And Harry's a brooder and Nev's a complete fusspot."

"All true." Harry agreed, nodding sagely at the now giggling first years.

"But nobody's gonna stop us from being best friends!" Neville concluded.

"Really?" Martha asked in turn.

"And you know," Harry added, "Nev's girlfriend is a Ravenclaw and she's our friend too. Why shouldn't you be friends?"

"Quite right you are, Mr. Potter." A voice sounded from behind a the large rosebush the three teens had been kneeling next to, making them jump in shock, reaching for their wands. Professor Sprout walked from behind the rosebush, looking at them with a proud smile.

"Well, I suppose you two," Harry addressed the two girls, "already know Professor Sprout, Head of Hufflepuff."

"And undercover ninja assassin." Neville interjected, rubbing circles over his still racing heart.

"With all due respect Professor," Draco spoke to the chortling Herbology teacher, "but what are they teaching you in Hufflepuff?" The two girls were now laughing openly, causing professor Sprout to nod at the three wizards in complete approval.

"I followed after Miss Anders and Miss Eaton due to that skirmish during class." She explained. "And I've sent Mr. Rolland to professor Snape already; I will not tolerate expressions of the like in my greenhouses." The immediate nod the three wizards gave only made her smile wider. "Now, if Mr. Malfoy could walk Miss Anders and Miss Eaton to the castle, I'd be much obliged."

"It would be my pleasure." Draco assured her. "My ladies," he addressed the two giggling girls, bowing primly, "to the castle we go. Have a good lesson." He said to Harry and Neville.

"You too, mate." Neville wished him turning his attention to the first years. "And remember what we told you."

"Also, should you need help-" Harry spoke.

"Ask a prefect or a teacher." Martha parroted his words from last night with a smile.

"Exactly." Harry agreed.

"And before I forget," professor Sprout interrupted, "ten points to Slytherin, Mr. Malfoy and ten points to Gryffindor each, Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Potter, for promoting inter-house unity." Harry and Neville shared one last grin with Draco before heading to the greenhouses alongside a cheerily whistling professor Sprout. But, while a cheery atmosphere was prevailing at Hogwarts, a certain letter that had been sent by the Deputy Headmistress of the very same school had just arrived via owl at the Potter Manor, having the direct opposite effect at its occupants.

As things were, the one that received the letter was in fact Rosie the house elf, as neither Mr. nor Mrs. Potter had yet returned to the manor. So, as she did with all the letters received, she placed it on a silver tray, by the fire, where it waited for the lord and lady of the house's return. An event that did not occur until ten in the evening, when a tired Lily Potter and an exasperated James Potter flooed in, followed by the later's two best friends. And it was one of those friends that noticed the envelope first.

"Oy, James." Sirius Black called from where he had collapsed on the sofa. "Is that the Hogwarts seal on that letter?"

"What letter?" James asked.

"I'll get it." Lily offered, snatching the much discussed letter from the pile and opening it. "It's from Minerva."

"What's so important she couldn't wait until Saturday to tell us?" Remus questioned. "Lily?" He asked alarmed as he watched his usually levelheaded friend blanch and fall back to the armchair in what looked like pure shock.

"Lily, what happened?" James asked, running to his wife in fear. "Is it Adrian?"

"It is Adrian," she confirmed, "but not for the reasons you think."

"Is he hurt?" James asked, needing to hear he wasn't.

"He got detention."

"That's," Sirius began tentatively, looking at his two friends for support, "not the worse think could happen, we got detentions all the time and Minnie never did-"

"Harry gave it to him." She clarified.

"Why?" James asked, confusion etched on his face. "If it has something to so with Malfoy, I swear-"

"Cut it, James." Sirius warned, James flinching at his cold tone. The dog animagus was feeling more and more protective of his young cousin -and admiring of his even younger godson- and he was finally prepared to take a stand for them, even to one of his two oldest friends if needed be.

"It's not about, Draco." Lily assured him. "Apparently, Harry walked in on a fight between Adrian and a boy named Seamus Finnigan," the three wizards nodded, remembering the sandy haired Gryffindor, "fighting about Voldemort's return. Mr. Finnigan's mother works at the Ministry, from what I can see." Lily explained, making Sirius wince, pretty much understanding how that fight would have gone down. "Things devolved into a fistfight and Ron got hit trying to separate them, only for Neville to succeed. Minerva asked a Dean Thomas that was present during the incident and he said that's when Harry walked in; Neville explained what had happened -Adrian had apparently said something not so kind about Mr. Finnigan's mother," another wince, this time from Remus, "and Harry told him that he had been raised better than that."

"And he gave him a detention?" James asked, not completely disagreeing with his younger son's decision, even if he found it a bit extreme for the circumstances.

"Not for that." Lily gulped before she read on. "Adrian was enraged that all Harry had to say was reprimanding him for insulting Mr. Finnigan's mother and accused him of siding with Voldemort in the coming war."

"Ruddy hell!" Sirius exclaimed. "If I was Harry I'd have cursed him, never mind the detention."

"How could he say such a thing?" Remus wondered, hiding his face in his hands in abject misery while James stared numbly at his wife.

"It wasn't Harry who reacted at the insult." Lily said, sounding detached, resorting simply to reading the letter aloud, lacking the strength for further commentary. " _Mr. Longbottom who, according to Mr. Thomas, was up to that point bodily preventing Adrian and Mr. Finnigan from assaulting each other, pushed Adrian backwards, claiming he would have cursed him for what he'd just said but he would rather not waste his time fighting further. Adrian then said that, while he had expected his brother's actions, he had never thought Mr. Longbottom would side with the Dark Lord, insinuating he was a disgrace to his parents._ "

"For Merlin's sake!" James exclaimed, mirroring Remus' reaction, taking off his glasses to rub at his eyes tiredly.

"And that's when Harry gave him the detention." Lily said, throwing the letter to the side, not even willing to look at it.

"From all the low blows…" Sirius commented, shaking his head in disbelief.

"We have to do something." Remus stated. "Adrian's acting out all the time, lately; you saw how he was during the summer."

"And do you remember what Harry said at the station?" Sirius asked, that conversation not having left his mind since last June. "That he had talked about him leaving home with Adrian and they had agreed it would be for the best? We never asked exactly what Adrian and Harry talked about."

"I don't think it was  _Adrian's_  fault that Harry decided to not return home for the holidays." James stated darkly.

"Enough with blaming Severus, James." Sirius countered tiredly. "How would we really know what kept Harry away from home? We hardly know anything about him."

"This isn't the point of this conversation, Sirius!" James exclaimed.

"Maybe it should be!" The dog animagus cried out.

"I think we should deal with Adrian, first-" Lily tried to support her husband's opinion.

"What else is new?" Remus asked gold flaring in his eyes. "I think Sirius and I should leave you to talk about this." The werewolf said, rising from the couch and throwing a handful of floo powder in the fireplace.

"Moony, c'mon-"

"No, James," Sirius said, siding with his werewolf friend who disappeared in a burst of flames, not looking back, fists clenched in anger. "Remus is right. I don't want to fight with you but you keep forgetting you have two sons. You need to remember that before it's too late." And he followed Remus out the Potter Manor, leaving the startled Potters behind, thinking that, perhaps, that conversation had been already a few years too late.

Landing in the fireplace at Remus' apartment, Sirius tried to make a quick assessment of the situation. There was no question in his mind that Adrian's foul temper had somehow played a role in Harry not returning to Potter Manor, even though he knew not the extent of its significance in said decision. The fact that James and Lily still preferred turning a blind eye to that problem piled on top of all the slights against his godson throughout the years; he had been going over the past fifteen years in his mind, thinking back on all the times they -and here he guiltily included himself- had opted on leaving Harry behind in favour of doing something with or for Adrian. How could they ever have been so presumptuous to believe Harry wouldn't eventually do the same and leave  _them_  behind? And how could he, especially, Sirius berated himself, think that? He who had left his whole family behind too on account of their actions?

"This can't go on, Sirius." Remus said, pouring himself and his friend a glass of firewhiskey. "Adrian needs boundaries and Harry…"

"Harry probably wants nothing to do with any of us by now." The dog animagus supplied. "And I, for one, won't blame him if that's the case. Gryffindor's ghost, but how many times has he alluded that Draco staying over during the summer means he's practically run away from home? And to have Adrian calling him a Death Eater because he's given the boy shelter?" Sirius took a generous gulp from his glass. "Not to mention James' reaction. You know, from all of us, I thought he'd get it. Didn't he do the exact same thing for me, after all?"

"James's been looking for a scapegoat, Sirius." Remus explained. "Voldemort's back, Adrian is acting out and Harry's drifted further away from the family than ever before. He just doesn't know whom to blame."

"Himself?" Sirius asked. "All of us?" He carried on, pointing at himself. "Harry didn't wake up one day and decided it'd be about time to leave his family. And Adrian's been pushing him away just as well. For Merlin's sake,  _Ron_  is closer to Adrian than his own twin! How did that happen?"

"I don't know, Siri." Remus answered, falling back onto the sofa. "And I don't think we can change it now. Only Adrian and Harry can and you _know_  which one of them is the more unwilling party."

"Right now both of them." Sirius stated, sighing as he eyed the door to Remus' office. "Say, Moony, could I borrow a quill, some parchment and your owl?"

"Must you ask?" Remus enquired. "Why though?"

"I'm writing a letter to Harry." The dog animagus explained. "I don't know if it's too late, but I won't wait any longer to try breeching the gap between us. He's my godson, Remus." He said, looking at the werewolf pleadingly.

"Tell him I said hello and that, should he need any help, I'm here for him too." Sirius smiled and dashed towards the office, determination oozing from every pore. The letter was written, scrapped and rewritten, finally to be sent in the small hours of the morning and delivered first thing on Wednesday over breakfast at the Gryffindor table. The letter that arrived first, as it stood, was one directed to Adrian by his parents. It only took one swift cursory eye from the elder Potter twin after he opened it to turn a sickly shade of grey and stare at his twin with undisguised hate.

"You really did it, didn't you, traitor?" Adrian hissed, approaching Harry in fury. "You gave me a detention!"

"I told you I would." Harry sneered back.

"You're supposed to be on my side!" Adrian spat, not caring about who was watching. The saddest thing, Harry thought, is that he still didn't understand how that worked.

"Funny thing; so are you." He countered, having the satisfaction of seeing Adrian storming out the room, Hermione and Ron hot on his heels. Chancing a glance towards the staff table, he found his father nodding in agreement, Dumbledore looking troubled and Umbridge calculative and quite pleased. And people should really stop reaching conclusions about my person when they haven't got all the facts, Harry mused. A large, brown owl cut his ruminations short, landing in front of him, extending one leg so Harry could untie the letter fastened there. Allowing the owl a few pecks of cereal before it flew back, Harry looked at the letter in confusion. A confusion which only intensified as he read the name of the sender.

"A letter from Sirius?" Neville asked as Harry showed it to him and Ginny. "How comes?"

"Dunno," Harry admitted, opening it and letting the other two Gryffindors read it over his shoulder, a smile etching on his lips as he read along. "Would you look at that?" He wondered, smiling at the parchment. "What say you we show this to Draco too?" Harry asked Neville who easily nodded in agreement. The brown eyed Gryffindor waved at Draco, catching his attention easily, pointing at the entrance of the Great Hall. Immediately understanding what the meant, he rose from the Slytherin table Ginny leaving to meet with Luna for double Charms, carrying for her a message from Neville to meet after lunch break.

"Is Adrian causing trouble again?" Draco asked, hand on the pommel of his wand.

"No more than usual." Harry assured him. "Read this though." He said, handing him the letter from Sirius. Draco read it through, smiling disbelievingly the further down he went.

" _And tell my cousin_ ," he read out loud, " _if he's not already reading this lines over your shoulder, that my house is always open to him should he have need for it and that I'm at his disposal should he ever feel the need to commiserate over the more intolerable members of our family._ " He looked at his brothers, grey eyes twinkling. "Do you think he means it?"

"I have never heard Sirius utter a word he didn't mean." Harry assured him. The remaining three days of the week passed mostly uneventfully; despite his ever darkening mood, Adrian was determined to avoid his twin at all costs and, since Harry was continuing with his practice of studying at the library rather than the Common Room, the hours they spent in each other's presence were thus further lessened. Ginny and Luna had joined the three teens at the library for studying, Luna only sending them a bewildered glance on Thursday afternoon, when Neville finally mentioned to her how they would meet at the Great Hall on Sunday at seven -they figured mentioning Severus' office from the get go was probably inadvisable- as they wanted to talk to her about something important. The fact that the Ravenclaw didn't ask what it was and instead chose to trust her friends only cemented Harry's belief that telling Luna could only benefit them.

Before he knew it, it was time for Quidditch tryouts, where he secured his spot on the team, Ron becoming their new Keeper and completing the team. On Saturday morning, after a very swift breakfast, he made his way towards the Dungeons were his father awaited.

"Minnie will be waiting for you at Silbreith." The potions master explained. "If you need to return to the school immediately, she will contact you." Harry nodded in understanding.

"And Dad," he said, pulling out a parchment from his robes, "Neville asked me what I wanted to do after Hogwarts and, well," he trailed off, looking at the parchment in his hands, "I've been thinking about this." He said and pushed said parchment to his father's hands. "Take a look at it while I'm at Orbein?" Severus nodded, looking at the parchment curiously and Harry, feeling anxious as it was, grabbed a handful of floo powder and threw it into the flames. "Silbreith!" He exclaimed and he was gone.

Ghaith was saddled and waiting for him by the stables and Harry had already made it to Andûn by the time the student body at Hogwarts was just finishing with breakfast. The goblins were eager to show him all the work they'd been doing and Harry got to appreciate how the town was shaping up. With the last week's rains the river that passed through the town had filled out but the goblins had seen to that, the railings on the riverbanks and the bridges holding up perfectly. While at Andûn, Harry couldn't help but overhear the Ministry of Magic was still trying to slither its way into Gringotts. And, even if the vault that connected the bank to Orbein was secure, its existence known only to Nagnok and president Melvoz who -even if not bound by contract- would rather take secret to their graves than take away their people's only certain escape route, he realized suddenly that his normal vault wasn't.

Harry had very little care for the gold inside his vault. Even if his status as a master Alchemist ensured he would never need fear poverty, the true treasures of his vault were Nicholas' books and those were going to be moved to Orbein library's new wing on the last day of September. But there was the issue of funding the war effort. Of feeding and sheltering all the refugees he was building Andûn for. It was with thoughts like those that he found himself in his new alchemy lab at Orbein. Producing gold was a tricky business but certainly nothing as complicated as producing mithril. And, even if an ounce of mithril would go a long way at covering the expenses that would crop up during the war, there was also the issue of it limited trade value. Mithril was rare and so valuable, Harry was certain nobody would be ready to part with the amount of gold of an ingot's worth during the war. And while he had no scruples giving it away for less than its actual worth, he couldn't picture Voldemort not noticing somebody was selling mithril ingots. The same went with large precious stones and jewelry. Which only led him back to gold, the natural currency of the wizarding world.

The problem with gold, as Harry saw it, was that it would have to be produced in large quantities, specifically with not knowing how long the war would last. During the first war, the prices had gone up even for the most basic products and lack of production had led to even more overpriced imports. That had gone on for three years and the country's economy was practically brought to its knees, saved only by the fact that Gringotts had escaped mostly unscathed; that was a mistake Harry couldn't see Voldemort repeating.

The young alchemist was confident in his ability to produce gold but the quantities they would need for the war would have him slave at his lab for months on end, time he wouldn't have, time he didn't have even now. The only way known to Alchemists for mass producing gold had gone down to history as the most known cautionary tale of their trade; the world at large knew it as Midas' Touch. To the alchemists it was known with a different name. Harry could recall the day Nicholas had first talked to him about Midas' Folly, about the Alchemist King of old that had been so blinded by his thirst for gold, he ended up ruling a dead kingdom and meeting his end by the very thing he loved above all others. And, no matter how you looked at it, Harry thought, having your skin and organs -especially the lungs which was what killed Midas in the end, before the gold could claim his heart- turn into gold, literally chocking on the precious metal, wasn't the way he wanted to go.

The ritual Midas had used had been lost with the mad King who had wished for everything he touched to turn into gold and, even if it existed still, Harry wasn't certain he'd dare to read it, wouldn't like to go on with his life with such a burden in his mind. But, if a madman had managed to create such a ritual, surely there should be a shortcut to producing gold? Pulling out the ingredients he needed and his favourite hammer, Harry lit up the forge at his lab, realizing that, even thinking of improving a process he hadn't completed in years would be imbecilic on his part. And even while he knew he had to return to Hogwarts soon, he rolled up his sleeves and got to work. Three hours later he was drenched in sweat and his muscles were complaining but he was looking at a small pile of golden ingots glimmering at the firelight. He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and looked over his notes.

The ritual used in producing gold -if the two short lines spoken at the very end of the process could be called that and not a slightly lengthy spell- was easy and familiar. Maybe if it was spoken at the beginning of the process instead? The answer to that question, Harry found, ducking swiftly beneath a bench twenty minutes later, was; the base metal would explode. One more hour later and he got the same answer to the question; but what if you cast the ritual in the transitioning stage? Disgruntled, Harry headed to the only bathroom that actually worked in the whole castle for a quick shower, before returning for one more inspection of Andûn and heading for Silbreith.

The key, he thought, to the whole process would probably lie into rephrasing the ritual. Easy to say, Harry mused; after all it was only a millennia old ritual used by alchemists since before recorded history. Snorting at his own thoughts and knowing he was going to try either way, Harry flooed back to Hogwarts from Silbreith around five, leaving his father's empty office and heading straight for the library where Neville and Draco were waiting for him.

"So," Draco whispered the moment Harry sat down, "how fares Andûn?"

"The goblins are miracle workers." Harry assured them. "They're a little ahead of schedule even. Andûn's coming along great and, I was thinking, maybe you could come with on the last Sunday of September to see it delivered."

"Taking sneaking out of school to new levels, I see." Neville muttered, smiling at his brothers. "That of course means yes."

Harry didn't manage to catch his father until the very next morning, Severus waiting at his office like the day before. The potions master was holding the parchment Harry had given him in his hands, looking at it rather than his son with a soft smile.

"You know," Severus stated, looking up at Harry, chuckling mirthfully, "wizards and witches usually wait until they're well in at least their eighties before even considering applying for the Order."

"I have a greater experience with rituals than they do though and would you look at the initiation process?" Harry asked just as jubilant as his father unrolled the parchment in his hands.

The Order of Paladins, as its full name was, had been established by the first Great Gathering of the magical kingdoms -the forefather of the International Confederation of Wizards where it now organically belonged to- in the early ninth century. It was consisted of witches and wizards of great magical prowess that served as the higher mediators and peace keepers of the international community. The Order had been even called to fight once, at the end of the Second Feudal War, effectively ending it. And though them fighting was always the last measure, some had been hoping that they would be called to act against Voldemort, thought they were never given the chance to. Most importantly, however, the Order was free of the confines of the Ministries governing the countries each member came from. They had clearance to do research at any country of the Confederation and access to the projects in progress at the various Departments of Mysteries, even if they were bound by the same magical contracts as the Unspeakables regarding what they worked on. There were only ten members in the Order to date and all of them had become members at ages over eighty, as Severus had said. It was a prudent move to make, considering the initiation ritual could only be taken once in a lifetime but Harry was prepared to chance it.

"If it doesn't work, I can always simply carry on with my broomsmithing." Harry explained. It wasn't as if being a member of the Order was a full-time job. The ten members met four times a year unless called upon and were carrying on with their lives and careers outside of the Order. As a matter of fact, the very president of the Order, Jabari Nwosu, happened to be a Healer when not occupied with the workings of the Order. "I figured I should complete training in a Higher Academy before I undertake the initiation ritual and I was considering studying Curses and Wards. Not necessarily Curse-Breaking, but, I thought, I don't know what type of projects there are in the Department of Mystery so-" Severus laughed, interrupting his son.

"I don't doubt that, should anybody make it to the Order in their twenties, it's going to be you. And I agree you should graduate from a Higher Academy first, because no matter what happens you might eventually tire of broomsmithing, or might need a break from it, you never know." The potions master stated. "If it's advanced magical applications you want to study, then I'm with you. I think it would suit you impeccably."

"You don't think me foolish for wanting to try for the Order?" Harry asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I'll pretend you didn't even ask that." Severus stated, smiling proudly at his son who took the opportunity to hug him for all he was worth.

"Thanks, Dad." Harry muttered, his chest feeling incredibly lighter not that he had shared his thoughts with his father, as it usually did.

"Whatever are you thanking me for?" Severus asked, smiling at Harry. "Now, you should go and check on Andûn. Don't forget you have to speak to Luna this afternoon."

The day passed relatively swiftly for Harry, walking around Andûn to direct the goblins where he saw fit and jumping out of the way of the small explosions in his alchemy lab. When he returned to Hogwarts, feeling more relaxed than he had all week, despite the imminent conversation with Luna, he found Neville in the exact opposite mood.

"He's been like that for the past hour." Draco explained as he and Harry observed Neville walking up and down Severus' office, checking at his watch every two minutes or so.

"Have you tried getting him sit down?" Harry asked.

"I thought he'd curse my head off when I tried." The blond admitted.

"What if we put her in danger?" Neville wondered out loud, looking at the flames in the fireplace. "We  _will_  put her in danger!" He realized. "What are we doing?"

"We will tell her give her the chance to choose, Neville." Harry reminded him. "And having her train with us will have her in less danger when the war starts, don't forget that." Neville nodded, that thought seemingly grounding him. A few minutes later, the flames in the fireplace turned green, Severus stepping out of the flames, carrying the Pensive he had left to retrieve fifteen minutes ago.

"Is he still at it, then?" The potions master asked, now slightly concerned for the mental health of the young Gryffindor. Being met with two identical shrugs, he decided to leave Neville to his muttering and go through the memories they were going to show Luna instead. Thirty minutes later, exactly at five minutes to seven, Neville froze abruptly mid-step, looking at his watch in fear.

"We… we should get going." He said, stumbling at his own words.

"It will be fine." Harry assured him, clasping his shoulder.

"What is she wants nothing to do with me afterwards?" Neville asked, brown eyes wide and pleading.

"You're talking madness." Draco offered. "Also, if all else fails, do that eye thing you just did." Harry snickered as Neville's eyes widened even more, confusion added to the mix.

"What eye thing?"

"You don't want to know." Severus muttered, still not over being accused of possessing a  _puppy eye_  expression, shuddering even as he thought of the term.

"You're a natural anyway." Harry assured him, pushing him out the door. They walked towards the Great Hall, Neville dragging his feet as if he was heading to his execution. Whatever colour he had left on his face vanished completely the moment they actually walked out of the dungeons and run into Ginny and Luna waiting for them.

"Hey, Luna." Neville mumbled, looking at his feet.

"Is what you want to tell me so bad?" Luna asked gazing at her boyfriend in concern. "You wouldn't need an audience to break up with me, would you?" That was enough to snap Neville out of his nervousness, eyes panicked as they bored into Luna's.

"Breaking up with you?" He asked, compulsively moving forward to hug her. "Why would you say that, don't ever say that!" And then he kissed her.

"They're going to be just fine." Ginny whispered, walking towards Harry and Draco.

"Yes." Harry agreed. "I foresee these two making me feel uncomfortable through many, many years of public displays of affection."

"So does Evy, coincidentally." Harry thought he heard Ginny mutter, though he couldn't tell even with his hearing, as the girl had already moved further down the corridor to give the couple some semblance of privacy, smiling all the while.

"Nev, Luna?" Draco asked, his voice somewhat sheepish. "You're in the Great Hall." Seeing how his polite reminder didn't do the trick, Ginny smiled impishly and walked back towards them, Harry observing her curiously.

" _Hem-hem_ ," she cleared her throat, imitating Umbridge so accurately, Neville and Luna jumped back from each other in terror. Harry and Draco couldn't help the laughter that bubbled forth, Luna and Neville joining them when they realized exactly what had happened.

"That was  _some_  trick." Harry told Ginny.

"Thank you. I think it goes well with the whole evil vibe I've got going for me." She stated, smirking.

"Shall we?" Draco asked, still chuckling at Neville who nodded in agreement.

"Why are we going to professor Snape's office?" Luna asked, walking towards them.

"How did you know that's where we're going?" Draco asked, four sets of eyes looking at her in confusion.

"It's just that you three," she said, pointing at the three boys, "came from the dungeons while I know the Gryffindor common room is in one of the castle's towers. It's improbable you were there to pick up Draco from the Slytherin common room, considering you asked we meet at the Great Hall which you'd have to pass by to go to the dungeons. Even if Draco had needed to pick something up I doubt you'd have followed him all the way to the common room since the rest of the Slytherins would probably not take too kind to two Gryffindors hanging about in its vicinity, let alone finding out where exactly it's hidden, making it locical you'd have stayed here and wait for him. Additionally, considering it's Sunday, logic dictates you were already hanging out together, further excluding the Slytherin common room, probably getting everything ready for whatever you need to tell me. The potions labs are locked on weekends and you said you wanted to go somewhere private to talk so, unless you sneaked into one -doubtful since the potions labs are locked with actual charms while regular classrooms aren't so you would have picked one of those- professor Snape's office is the only other room that could cover the prerequisites for a private conversation." They blinked at her slowly. "You also just confirmed it." She concluded, looking at Draco, blushing under their attention.

"You know, what we're about to tell you?" Harry said after a few moments of shocked silence.

"Yes?"

"I'm so glad we're telling you." He stated.

"Also, that was brilliant." Ginny added, smiling encouragingly at her best friend.

"Thanks."

"Also,  _you're_  brilliant." Neville piped, throwing a hand over her shoulders, pulling her close as Harry led the way to the dungeons. He knocked on his father's office, Severus opening the door and letting them in.

"I'll be at Evy's office." He informed them, having agreed that it would be better if the four of them explained things before he and Evy entered the picture. "Call me when you need me." Harry nodded and Severus left, closing the door behind him, sending a kind smile towards Luna.

"Before we tell you anything," Harry began, the moment Neville led Luna at the sofa, "you have to know, finding out what we're about to tell you could put you in danger. Or rather, hanging out with us,  _me_  mostly, to be specific, will probably put you in danger. Telling you what we're about to tell you might help you be better prepared, for what's about to come. It's all going to make better sense later on, but please bear in mind that we four," he said, pointing at himself, his brothers and Ginny, "find ourselves into dangerous situations more times than the average Auror."

"Whatever you want to tell me," Luna said, "has something to do with Voldemort and the coming war." Harry nodded. "I have already decided I'll fight him. Even if I wasn't Ginny's friend-"

" _Best_  friend." The redhead interjected, the girls smiling at each other.

"-best friend," Luna agreed, "or Neville's girlfriend, I would still fight. And I've already figured you're hiding more things than you show still." She addressed Harry. "You  _did_  get chosen for the Triwizard Tournament last year after all; that means you've either been training or are extremely powerful magically. Or both." She said, cocking her head to the side slightly. "I think we've all already admitted to being illegal animagi so-" And Neville started laughing, kissing Luna on the top of her head, muttering something about her being a genius and himself extremely lucky.

"Alright then." Harry agreed. "Let's start this from the beginning." He leaned carefully against his father's desk, smiling slightly apologetically at Luna for the barrage of information that would follow. "My name is Harry Potter. And one Halloween night, when I was one and a half years old, I banished Voldemort." Luna blinked rapidly as Harry breathed in and jumped into explaining what he could, his brothers and Ginny interjecting here and there, showing Luna a few memories in the pensive when he thought it necessary.

"I wasn't expecting  _that_." Luna admitted, hands thrown around Neville as he held her in support.

"Nobody ever expects that." Draco assured her. "We surprise people; it's how we operate."

"So, basically, six people are handling the war preparations for the whole country." Luna carried on.

"And a few dozens of goblins." Harry added. "Though they will be obliviated later on." He frowned, trying to think of something to add in the face of that observation. "We did build a town though." He pointed out.

"And you're hunting down pieces of Voldemort's soul, two of which are hidden in Hufflepuff's Cup and Ravenclaw's Diadem."

"So, maybe we're a little bit crazy." Neville admitted, looking at her tentatively. Luna blinked once, twice and then smiled widely.

"As luck would have it, so am I." She stage whispered, evoking a relieved chuckle from her boyfriend.

"Well then, Luna Lovegood," Harry said, claiming the attention of all four teens, "welcome to the family."

 


End file.
